No Mistakes No Regrets
by perfectsmuttyvampire
Summary: Bella is with Edward, but he abuses her violently. When Bella falls for the new guy in town, something life-changing happens, leaving Bella to flee for the sake of the man she loves, and the child she now carries...
1. Chapter 1

_TITLE: No Mistakes, No Regrets_

_SUMMARY: Bella is dating Edward, rich, handsome and violent Edward. When the new guy in town gets entirely too close for comfort, and Bella falls hard for him, it leads to a life changing choice. Pregnant and frightened, Bella runs away. She moves into a shelter in Phoenix, Arizona, determined to leave her past in the past. Sixteen years later, Bella is 34 with a teenage son on her hands, a teenage son who now wants to find his father. So Bella packs her bags, and goes back to Forks, to confront the past she has spent years running from - only to find that both Edward and Emmett are still in town. One has never stopped looking, the other doesn't care. But can you undo sixteen years and give a father back his son?_

_WARNING: M rated, violence, smut, non-con. Emotional trauma, so read at your own risk._

_PAIRING: Some Bella/Edward, ends up Bella/Emmett._

_A/N: Yes, it's another big, emotional, hardcore storyline, this time focussing on domestic violence. No particular reasons behind this one, just the idea came to me. Again, I really, really value your feedback. One of these days, I promise I'll do a chaptered fic with minimal angst in it._

_OK, now, about the format of the story. Setting is going to be the key here. When I say it's FORKS PAST, I mean before she moves to Arizona. When it's ARIZONA, obviously, she's in Arizona. When it says FORKS she's gone back to Forks. These will be written in bold and underlined, so they won't be missed. If there's any questions or it's not clear, please let me know so I can improve it._

**FORKS PAST**

I'm running behind schedule. I'll have to skip girl-time with Alice and her girlfriend Rose. Edward gets mad when he isn't fed dead on six-thirty, and I won't have any time to make sure that happens if I meet them. With a sigh, I pull over and pull out my mobile.

"Alice, I -"

"Let me guess, Bella. You can't come, because if you do, Edward will get mad."

"I'm sorry, Alice."

"Bella, when are you going to leave him? When are you going to realize that he's scum, and so not good enough?"

"He's lovely once you get to know him, he's just insecure." And violent, I add silently.

"You say that every single time. Those exact words. Come on, just come for a bit. Rose is getting upset that she's barely even met my best friend yet."

"Tomorrow, I promise."

"Fine. But you'd damn well better come tomorrow."

She's mad at me, I know that. And if it was only just insecurity and possessiveness. But it's not just that. The secret Alice can never, ever know. The secret that nobody can ever know. That Edward Masen is not the man everyone thinks he is, and that I am not lucky to have him. That he beats me because he can, has sex when he wants, never mind when I want it, and essentially runs my life. Everyone only ever sees that he's slightly possessive. Not one person has even begun to guess at the secrets that Edward Masen, heir to the Masen Electricals fortune, hides behind the polished façade.

His dinner is right on time. He is not. I reheat his lasagne silently, serve him, then retreat. I wash the dishes, wash his plate when he's done.

"How was your day?" I ask, quietly, when he's finished his beer. Those are the rules - don't interrupt while he's eating dinner, and drinking his beer. I take the can and put it in the recycling bin.

"Fucking bullshit," he snaps, looking at me for the first time. I wince. I know that look. "It was fucking shit."

"Can I do anything?"

"Of course not, you fucking useless whore," he snarls. "You wouldn't even begin to understand."

"I'm sorry."

"Come here." I go over to him and he pulls me into his lap. I straddle, as he likes it, and then wait for orders. He puts his hand up my skirt. Another Edward rule. Always wear a skirt in the house, and don't wear panties. I feel him fumbling with his zipper, and I know he's hard. He's probably already been to some cheap club, let some poor girl give him a lap dance. He pushes inside me, and I grit my teeth. He's not gentle, he never is. It's always about him. He never uses a condom either - I have to take the Pill. He doesn't want any mistakes. He finishes off with a groan, then pushes me off him, tucking himself away.

"I'm going out, don't wait up," he says, roughly. Before I can stop myself, I ask him where he's going. There is silence in the kitchen. He glares at me. "Since when was that your business?" he spits at me, advancing slowly. He shoves me against the wall of the kitchen, my head smacking against the tiles. His hand wraps around my throat. His fist, when it hits my stomach, is an iron ball. He drags me upright by the hair and slams me back against the wall. I can't breathe. He's winded me completely, and his hand is getting tighter around my throat. He lets go just as I'm starting to see black spots in my vision. I fall over, gasping for breath, clutching my stomach. He gives me a kick to the ribs for good measure, once more knocking the air out, and then slams out of the house.

I drag myself off the floor only after I hear his car leave. I finish the washing up like a robot, then go upstairs. My throat is going to bruise. With a sigh, I find a polo neck sweater, pulling it on. I'm just contemplating having a hot bath and a glass of wine when the doorbell rings.

It's the new people from across the street. Well, one of the new people.

"Hi," this new guy says, with a dazzling smile. "I'm Emmett, me and my parents just moved in across the street."

"I'm Bella," I stutter out.

"Hi, Bella. We needed a favour, and you seem to be the only house around. We're struggling to find the heating, I don't suppose you could help?" I nod, say sure, pull on ballet flats and follow him outside. He takes me over the road.

"Mum, Dad, this is Bella from over the road. She knows where the heating is."

"Hello, Bella, I'm Esme, this is Carlisle. Were your parents not in? I didn't mean for Emmett to disturb you."

"Oh, I don't live with my parents, I'm living with my partner, Edward. He wasn't home. The heating is actually inside the cupboard in the master bedroom. The cupboard that you may have noticed serves no actual purpose?"

"We wondered what that was. Well, thank you, Bella. I don't suppose you know anywhere good in town to have dinner? All the kitchen things have mysteriously vanished."

"Yeah, just past the high school there's a restaurant. It's good prices and good food."

"Thank you. Emmett, will you walk Bella home?"

"Oh no, it's fine," I say.

When I get home, I shut the door and slide down it. Emmett is stuck on repeat in my head. Those eyes, those dimples, that hair. His smile, the smile that had turned my knees to jelly and my brain to mush, and the voice that had made my hands shake. This is not good.

EmmettPOV

She was beautiful. Dark eyes and dark hair, skin like porcelain and so tiny. Like a delicate little doll, but carried herself like a princess. And living with her partner. She can't be much older than me, how can she be already living with her partner? It's always the pretty ones.


	2. Chapter 2

EmmettPOV

About a week after I moved to town, I got woken up at about four in the morning. I wasn't sure at first what had disturbed me, and I was all ready to turn over and go back to sleep. But then a huge bang from outside nearly made me fall out of bed. I got up, went over to the window, and looked out. A man was struggling out of a car, dropping suitcases and swearing at the full pitch of healthy lungs, and slamming doors. Bella's front door opened, and she appeared, wearing a nightdress that revealed a great deal of skin, and looked entirely wrong on her. I guess that this is "my partner, Edward," who none of us have met yet. He's been away on some kind of business, according to Dad, who already knows everything. Apparently, he's heir to the vast and enviable Masen Electricals fortune. She doesn't look very pleased, but when he finally struggles out of the car, the first thing he does is grab her and kiss her. She lets him, but she looks faintly repulsed when he turns away. But the expression that crosses her face when he turns back is puzzling. He says something to her, and this time the expression consolidates.

She's scared of him.

I ponder that while I'm trying to get back to sleep. Why would she be frightened of him? Oh well. It's late, I expect I just saw it wrong. But I still can't shake the feeling that there something seriously wrong in that relationship.

BPOV

Drunk, and therefore violent. Drunk, and therefore randy. Drunk, violent and randy, and it's still only four in the morning. He'll have a god-awful hangover tomorrow, which equals a foul mood. Tomorrow is going to hurt.

I make the coffee the next morning, and try not to wince from the fresh bruises, and what feels like a broken rib. He's moving about - he's just got out the shower. The coffee is hot, and if he wants breakfast, I'll have to do that. He's already late for a meeting with his father. There's a knock on the door, and I go and answer that. It's his father.

"Hello, Bella," Edward senior says, smiling at me warmly.

"He's still upstairs, he's hungover and grumpy. Yes, I know he's late."

"I'll deal with it," he says, pausing to give me a quick hug. I exhale in a painful gasp when he's gone upstairs. There's muffled shouting, and I pour the coffee out and take it upstairs. I get an awkward smile and a glare. I give both of them a mug, and ask if he wants anything to eat. Edward junior would have said yes, but Edward senior says an outright no - they're already late.

When they're gone, I get straight in the car. I blew Alice off again last week. I've cleared the schedule completely, and I'm going to her place.

I get leapt on when I get there, and I have to force myself to grit my teeth and not scream out loud. Rose hugs me more sedately, and Alice yanks me into the living room. Movies go on, pizza gets ordered and the popcorn comes out. For the first time in months, I have a laugh with my girls. I joke around, fending off Alice's pleas to make me over, and answering Rose's questions about my skin routine. We talk movies and film stars, make up and hair. It's mindless, easy conversation, and I revel in it. I do all the grocery shopping when I leave them, again relishing the time away from him. He'll be late again tonight.

Emmett catches me when I pull up.

"Bella, let me help you with those bags." He takes several as if they weigh nothing without waiting for me to answer. I unlock the front door, and he helps me put everything away.

"You didn't have to, you know," I say, as he's packing stuff into the freezer.

"I wanted to," he says, directly. Apparently that's his style. And it makes me feel a little too mushy inside. I offer him coffee before I think about what I'm doing. He accepts. "How long have you and Edward been living together then?"

"Six months now."

"He's older than you?"

"Yes. Edward is 23, nearly 24."

"And you're…"

"18. He didn't force me."

"I never said he did." He watches me, and I feel myself blushing as I make the coffee.

EPOV

I watch as she pours coffee into mugs and then sets the machine to make another batch. She's blushing, and I wonder if I should bring up the incident this morning. Fear, and now defensive when I asked her how old she was. Something is going on in this house. She hands me my mug, and my fingertips brush across the back of her hand as I take it from her. She blushes again, before sitting on the couch. Despite obviously meant to take the armchair, I sit next to her, although I keep a distance. I decide to plunge right in, in typical Emmett style.

"Where had Edward been, this morning?"

"Oh, God, did he wake you? I am so sorry. He's been on a conference for the past few days."

"Was he drunk?" She grimaces, and takes a mouthful of coffee.

"Yes. Look, I'm really sorry he woke you."

"Its fine, I got back to sleep pretty much straight away." We drink coffee in companionable silence for a while, and I reflect how different her jeans and sweater are from the nightie I saw her in. I also see that she seems much more comfortable in her jeans than she looked in the nightie, and that jeans suit her better. She looks much more at ease.

"You go to college?" I ask her, watching her reaction.

"I don't, no. I would like to though."

"Then, why don't you?"

"Not that simple, Emmett." She doesn't elaborate and I don't push her. After all, I barely know her. "Would you like another coffee?"

"No thanks. Actually, I'd best be getting on. Mum'll be wondering where I disappeared to."

"OK. Thanks for all your help."

"Not a problem. Next time you need a bit of muscle, just come and ask." She laughs, and gives me a little push in the direction of the door.

"I'll bear that in mind."

Once again, like every night since she opened the door to me for the first time, I think about her that night. I barely know her - and yet I can't stop thinking about her. Already, I can imagine holding her in my arms. She's tiny, and yet strong. She radiates comfort. All I can imagine is being close to her. That night, after my parents have gone to bed, I call my brother in New York.

"Emmett?"

"Jasper. I've met a girl."

"You've called me to tell me that? Emmett, I got work to do."

"You know I wouldn't call just to tell you I met a girl."

"So what's special about her?"

"Everything. But she's got a partner. She's Edward Masen's girlfriend.

"_The_ Edward Masen?"

"Yes, that Edward Masen."

"Emmett, he's got a horrible reputation."

"What?"

"Bar fights, drunken behaviour, arrest record, his ex had him arrested."

"What for?"

"He hit her, but she never pressed any charges and as they couldn't prove it, it was dropped. So, what is so special about this girl."

"I don't know. I met her a week ago, and I can't get her out of my head."

"Emmett has a crush?" he says. I can hear the smirk. "Seriously, bro, either try and wank her out of your system or turn on the old McCarty charm."

"Thanks, Jasper - I think."

"No problem. Now get off the damn phone, I have a report to write and a date with Alice."

He didn't help. But I'm thinking about her while I shower that night. And I'm thinking about her when I go to bed. And I'm sure as hell thinking about her when I wake up.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N: OK, now, I need to clarify the Bella/Emmett relationship. It does seem like she's falling fast. She's in a very violent, abusive relationship, she likes/desires Emmett and therefore she wants to be with the ideal of Emmett.**_

BPOV

He's on my mind every second of every day, and it kills me. Especially as Edward can sense that I'm distracted and unfocused and he knows that it isn't girl time with Alice that's the reason that I keep staring out the windows. He hits harder, does more damage now, but he can barely touch me. I don't imagine Emmett consciously - that'd be too dangerous, and besides, I don't know what I'd imagine him as. I am in love with the ideal Emmett represents and the fact that he represents the stable relationship I always wanted. I know he likes me - I've seen enough guys with that look on their face and in their eyes to know what he imagines, and what he wants. But this isn't just a casual affair that I am considering and it isn't just hurt that'd be involved. He's made it perfectly clear what would happen if I cheated and what would happen to the guy I cheated with. It'd involve violence, and death. Edward Masen does not let go of what is his easily.

I can't even let myself think it. I can't even let myself day-dream about it. Emmett has got to get out of my head, or we're both in trouble.

When Edward gets home that night, he's furious about something. I serve him dinner in silence, watch him eat in silence and then turn to wash up in silence. The punch hits me like a freight train, knocking me off my feet, striking my head on the counter as I go down. He yanks me upright by the hair.

"How long have we known _Emmett, _then, Bella?" he hisses in my ear, hand tightening around my throat, the other coiled in my hair. I don't know which of the lightening darts of pain hurt most - my scalp, where he pulls my hair, my throat, my cheekbone, my forehead. "Because he seemed remarkably familiar with me in town today."

"I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Don't lie to me, bitch," he snarls, pulling my hair harder, yanking me round to face the table. He pushes me down, making me bend. I scrabble for purchase, fighting.

"Edward, don't!" I scream. He slams my head down onto the table, and I scream again.

EmmettPOV

I'm just crossing the street to get home when I hear the crash come from Bella's house. I change course, head for their place. I'm standing on the porch, ready to knock, see if everything's OK, when I hear another crash, and then a female scream, high with fear.

"Edward, don't!" There's a muffled thump, and then a scream of pain. A man's voice shouts, raspy with fury.

"Shut up, bitch! I'll teach you to look at other men!" There is a thud and a crash, and then everything goes very quiet. I hear footsteps - loud and angry, and a dragging sound. I don't know what to do, whether to burst in there, or go home, tell my parents.

In the end, I do neither. I stand frozen on their porch, until I hear someone storming down stairs - heading right for the front door. I panic, look for an escape route. In the end, I jump into the lavender bushes by their front door, trusting that they and the dark night will hide me from view. He nearly has the door off it's hinges when he slams it closed behind him. I manage to avoid leaping out of the bush and beating him to death. After all, I'm not entirely sure what happened. It could be a mistake on my part. I wait until his car has roared off down the street, and then I jump back onto their porch, picking lavender out of my hair. I knock, but nobody answers. I wait a long time, but eventually I have to give it up.

I lie awake for a long time that night, trying desperately to convince myself that it was just a misunderstanding, that it was just a row. Maybe he broke something of hers - that'd explain the "Edward, don't!" but not the scream. The thumps could be them throwing things.

I'm not fooling anyone, least of all myself.

BPOV

He doesn't have sex with me. That makes it a whole month - since my last period, in fact - without him even touching me in any other way than to either grope or hit. I can't help feeling relieved. I don't care where he's getting his kicks, but as long as it isn't on me. I'm carefully avoiding Emmett. But at the same time, I'm desperate to talk to him. I need to tell him that he can't approach Edward again - but I don't know how to do that without looking weird. And besides, I don't "need" to talk to him at all. It's not like it matters. It doesn't matter, and I don't need to see him.

So why, someone tell me, am I now standing on his porch, waiting for him to answer the door?

He's shirtless. My knees turn to water and my stomach becomes inhabited by snakes. My brain turns to mush, and I simply gape.

"Oh, Bella, hi," he says, seemingly flustered. "You want to come in?" And my traitorous head nods before I can stop it, and he steps aside, and I walk into his house. Stupid Bella has taken over. "Can I get you a drink?" I nod.

"Sure, that'd be nice." He gets me Coke, which is good. I can't handle coffee right now.

"I'll just go get a shirt, I was working out." Oh, yes, weren't you just. I can't rip my eyes away from those muscles.

"You don't have to," I mumble, then blush when I realise that he heard me. He raises one eyebrow, those damn dimples come out and mischief lights in his eyes. And yes - he doesn't bother, just sits himself on the couch, and pats the seat next to him. It's a straight dare, and I meet his challenge. I've gone crazy. I must have done. The bruises from the beating I got over this man are still purple and sore, and here I am, sitting in his house, and having to fight a battle with my eyes to stop them staring at him.

"So, can I help you?" Damn confidence.

"Yes, I mean, maybe, I mean, I'm not sure, I mean -"

"Bella," he says, grinning, reaching over to pat my knee, "take a breath." I do so, and he chuckles. I hit him lightly on the arm.

"Stop it," I mutter, unable to help the smile. I can't help myself. I haven't felt this way since - well, ever. I feel safe, and I feel warm inside.

"Stop what?" he queries, matching my smile.

"I came over to ask you something. You spoke to Edward in town."

"I said hi, yes. I told him I'd met you recently, and that I'd though I'd introduce myself, seeing as though we're neighbours. What's the problem?"

"I - well." He looks at me.

"Bella, seriously, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, why would you ask that?" He looks like he's considering something. And what he says next makes my blood run cold.

"I heard you fighting with him. I heard you scream, and I heard him hit you."

EPOV

She goes white to the lips. She puts her can down with shaking hands.

"Don't be ridiculous, Emmett," she whispers. "Don't be stupid."

"I'm not being stupid! I know what I heard! You screamed 'Edward, don't,' and then I heard him hit you. And I heard you scream." She says nothing, stares into space with white face, and huge brown eyes. "How long?"

"It's - it isn't what you think, I -"

"Don't even think about making excuses for him. Don't you dare." I take her face in my hands. Her eyes are soft behind a layer of tears. "Why don't you have him arrested?"

"And when he gets out? Emmett, he is Edward Masen. He'd buy his way out of a court case before I could blink and then he would come for me, and he would kill me. He's made it very clear what would happen if I ever tell."

"Then run. Let's go now."

BPOV

He pulls me off the sofa, and I stare at him.

"Then run. Let's go now." He takes my face back in his hands and I feel like his blue eyes are burning into my soul. "You can pack - he's out, yeah? Pack a bag, and lets go."

"And when he finds us? Don't make me live with the fact that he'd catch up with us, and then he'd kill you. And your parents will never let you go. There is nothing we can do."

"To hell with him," Emmett whispers, right before he kisses me.


	4. Chapter 4

He kisses me, and it's soft, gentle, and warm. His hands are gentle on my face, and I can feel that I am the one controlling our kiss - his lips move when mine do, and I am the one who asks entry. Suddenly his hands are on my waist, and mine are gripping those shoulders and his are in my hair and one of mine is on his chest and his mouth is hot on mine. He breaks off, resting his forehead on mine.

"I've been imagining this since I first met you," he murmurs, and I smile dazedly.

"Measure up?"

"Way beyond." He kisses me, firm, insistent, and I melt into his arms. He sinks back onto the couch, taking me with him, and holds me tight. It's everything I've ever wanted - curled up on the couch, someone holding me close, kissing me, hands strong on my waist.

It's only when one hand begins to stray towards my ass that I wake up. I pull away with a gasp and sit up. He sits up with me.

"Emmett! Oh my god, we can't do this."

"Why can't we?" he insists, taking me back into his arms and stroking my hair. "If it's what we want?"

"But -" I try, well aware that I'm losing an argument I won't get a chance to start.

"We're here, he's far away, and I can tell you want me, and I'm pretty sure you know I want you."

And as that it all very true, and as I suddenly want to be reckless and carefree, I kiss him again. And I don't protest when he carries me up the stairs, and into his bedroom.

EPOV

The sun is shining when I wake up the next morning. And there's someone in bed alongside me, her breasts pressing against my chest. She's naked, and it's Bella. I press my lips to her hair and smile. She stirs instantly, and blinks sleep out of her eyes.

"Morning, beautiful." She smiles sleepily, then gasps.

"Oh well, crap." But then she smiles again. "Never mind. I'm good here." She stretches, and I watch the view. I remember exploring every inch of that porcelain skin with mouth and hands, and then how pretty she was when I slid inside her, and when she came, with flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. She snuggles in. "What time is it?"

"About 12:30," I say, glancing at the clock. She utters a shriek and leaps out of bed. It's my turn to gasp. In the dark last night, I never noticed bruises. But now, standing naked as she is, her ribs are a pattern of them, and I see dark marks against her skin on her throat. "Bella!" She looks down, and the smile leaves her face.

"This is Edward, Emmett," she says, gesturing. "He's broken most of my ribs, my nose, my fingers, and once, my wrist. "This is why I cannot and will not leave him."

She takes a shower, but I intercept her on the way back. We make love again, and I eventually agree to let her go.

"Leave him, please." She looks up at me, and her eyes fill.

"Don't ask the impossible of me. Please don't."

"But we could -"

"Don't."

BPOV

He lets me go, and I slip home. I manage to change just in time for Edward to get home, and I pretend that everything is just fine. I look at myself in the door of the microwave after he passes out drunk on the couch, and smile. He must be really drunk. Everything about me screams well fucked. My mind turns back to Emmett, him holding me as I came apart in his arms. And for one glorious minute, I imagine what it would be like if we did run away. I imagine what it'd be like if we were an ordinary couple, living in the city. And it seems so ideal and ordinary, I allow myself, this once, a daydream about Emmett and me.

A week goes by and Edward hasn't been home for days. He'll be away for a fortnight. The first thing that happens is Emmett appears on my doorstep, smiling cheekily and looking irresistible. We don't get dressed for three days, alternating the bed, the shower and every room in the house. Finally, we get dressed and get up, spending time bundled together on the sofa, and cooking together. But of course, eventually he has to go home and I have to get on. About a day after he's gone off with his parents to visit his brother, I wake up feeling horribly sick. I make it on time - barely. I press my hand to my belly, steady myself as I stand up shakily. I feel deadly tired, and I'm flushing hot and cold. When I go into the kitchen, I realise what's wrong. Pill free week.

But I haven't had a period. Everything goes black, and the last thing I remember is the kitchen floor rushing towards my face.

EPOV

We spend three days in New York with Jasper and then come home. I can barely suppress my excitement - Edward is away for another two days and that means more time alone with Bella. We get inside and I trip over the post.

"Grab that, Emmett."

Bill, bill, bill, circular, catalogue, medical club letter, and then a plain envelope, no stamp and no address, just my name. I recognise Bella's handwriting, and tuck it into my pocket. I hand the rest of the mail to Mum, and then vanish upstairs.

_Emmett_

_I am so sorry I have to do this. I have left Forks. In two days time, Edward will be back. I've not left a note. I've just disappeared. He'll realise. He probably won't care. I've had to leave, please understand and please don't come after me. I can't tell you why, and I really wish I could. But I can't. I hope, one day, we'll meet again, and I will explain, and you will be able to forgive me._

_I love you, even if I barely know you,_

_Bella_


	5. Chapter 5

_**ARIZONA**_

I scream, white hot pain ripping through me. The contractions started four hours ago, and now I'm clinging helplessly to a hospital bed as waves of pain rock me. This is madness. Nobody can be in this much agony and live.

"Keep pushing, Bella, the head's nearly out!" The midwife is gently encouraging, while a doctor is crouching between my legs, ready for me to deliver.

"I can't do this!" I scream, gripping her hand.

"Yes you can, you're already doing it! Come on, Bella, push for me!" So I push, doing as I'm told again, and then I feel a rush between my legs. "Head's out, one more!" I throw everything I have left into the push and there's a sticky sound and gasp and then a shocked and infuriated scream. I collapse back on my pillows, panting helplessly. A warm bundle, wrapped in a towel, is placed into my arms by the midwife.

"Little boy," the doctor says, smiling as the placenta delivers. I barely feel a thing, I'm just transfixed by eyes of piercing blue. "One beautiful, healthy baby boy. Seven pounds six ounces."

"Hello, baby," I whisper. "Hello, beautiful."

Two weeks later, I get his birth registered.

"Ok, so what's the mother's name?"

"Isabella Marie Swan."

"And the father's?" I take a deep breath.

"Emmett Michael Cullen."

"His occupation?"

"I don't know," I admit. The woman filling the form out doesn't react though, just types in 'unknown' and moves on.

"And the baby's name?" This time, the smile she gives me is full power. "And hasn't that baby just got beautiful eyes! Isn't he adorable!" I smile too. Oh, yes, he's gorgeous. Just like his father.

"Jonathon - spelling as J-O-N-A-T-H-O-N - Xavier Swan." My baby boy, my Jon.

He's demanding, and any lingering baby weight falls off during night feeds, endless nappy changing, and the pushing his buggy all over the place. But everyone's reaction to him is worth everything. His eyes have remained a piercing blue against very dark hair - my hair, I notice. My pale complexion, his father's dazzling eyes, and my hair. I can already tell he's going to be exactly like Emmett. I think about him often. I think about what he'd say if he was here now. But that thought is still as dangerous as it was nine months ago, during stolen hazy days.

Renee and Phil are supportive. Phil hit the baseball big time, and they pay to get me an apartment and offer to sub me so I don't have to work. They have enough cash to make sure I'm not found. But I can't live off them forever. As soon as Jon's in kindergarten, I'll get a job. I took a correspondence course in secret, while I was with - well, back in Forks. I'll be a secretary somewhere, earn enough to support me and my son. I can take responsibility for my baby, and I'll prove that to everyone who whispers behind their hands about the eighteen year old single mother, appearing pregnant and alone.

Renee did an OK job of hiding how disappointed she was when I called from an Arizona diner, telling her I was alone, single and pregnant with a baby that wasn't Edward's. She did sort of hint at abortion or adoption, but I made it clear that it wasn't going to happen. And as she got used to it, she got excited, started buying cute baby clothes, and sweet little bootees. I'm told that Jon is three pounds heavier than I was at birth. And I keep insisting that I can cope. But it's really hard when he has colic at three months, flu at five months, then chickenpox a week later. I'm at my wits end when the home health lady says it looks like he's starting tonsillitis at one year old.

But it's worth every second. Every sleepless night is negated when he smiles at me for the first time, sits up unaided, and then talks. I was at Renee's, and he was pulling his faces, opening and shutting his mouth.

"Mom, I don't know what he's doing. He's been doing that for days. I think he might be cutting a tooth."

"Maybe it's wind."

"No, he does it right after a burp too." We let him get on with it, resigning it as just another mystery. But when he started whining for lunch, and I bent down to pick him up, he gurgled.

"Mamma," said a small voice, perfectly clearly. "Mamma." I burst into tears, so then he burst into tears, followed by Renee. Phil walked into the middle of it all, and was confronted by a thoroughly annoyed baby who still hadn't been fed, an emotional wreck, and his wife, crying into kitchen towel. He was great, scooping up Jon, plonking him into his high chair, and getting the tins. I pulled myself together and managed to play airplanes with him to get him to eat his mush, which he drooled over happily before eating. "Mamma, mamma, mamma, mamma," he mumbled.

"Yes, baby, I'm mamma. Clever boy. Mamma's right here."

I slept on the floor of his nursery when he first came home with me. I couldn't help myself. I got up more often than he did, just to check he was still breathing. He was a wonderful baby, apart from when he got ill. He slept through from barely a week old, only cried when any self-respecting baby would cry and was perfectly happy to spend all day lying in his Moses basket, cooing at his lullaby mobile or plushies. Not that I ever let him. I was constantly picking him up, and cuddling him close, feeding him - he might have slept through, but he demanded regular two hourly feeds during the day. He liked napping on my chest, and I was perfectly happy to let him, despite everyone saying I'd turn him into a mummy's boy. I laughed when they said it. Like hell. My boy would be like his daddy.

I often wonder, watching my toddler run round, screaming like a steam engine, what I'll tell him about his daddy when he's old enough. Will I tell him that I loved his dad? Will I tell him that not a day goes by when I don't think about him? Will I tell him about the man I was with when I loved his dad? Can I tell him about it all - Edward, Emmett, and hell? I don't know. I know the subject will come up one day. Of course it will. How old will he be when "I'll tell you when you're older" no longer remains as one of my options? I'm not stupid. I'll have to tell him why daddy isn't around. I'll have to tell him that daddy isn't here because I was too scared to have him here. Because I was a coward, I am depriving my boy of his father. That isn't OK. I think about how easy it'd be to pick up the phone and make some calls. How easy it'd be to get in touch. But then I set my teeth. It's for our safety - for his safety. Edward will not find me, or my son. I tell myself that if I didn't have the baby, I'd run right back into Emmett's arms, and to hell with the consequences. But I've got the baby to consider.

Jon's first day at kindergarten is pretty hard. He's only five, and seems like a baby still. _My _baby. But he lets me walk him to his classroom, and while I talk to his teacher, he disappears off.

"He's allergic to bananas, but that's all. Oh, and I'm trying to get him to quit thumb-sucking, so if you could just sort of coax him into not doing it, that's be a great help."

"So, we spell his name J-O-N-A-T-H-O-N, right?"

"Yep. But he's only Jonathon when he's in trouble, he's Jon all the rest of the time," I say, smiling at the kindergarten teacher. She grins back, and it's like Alice again. Instantly like her, instantly know we'll be friends.

"Well, I think I can remember all that. God, you wouldn't believe how neurotic some mothers are. And some of the fathers! Will Jon's daddy ever be picking him up?"

"His dad isn't really - I mean, he's - I mean -"

"That's fine, Ms Swan," she reassures me. "We just have to ask, so we know who we can send him off with."

"It'll only ever be me or my mother, and I promise I'll let you know if I won't be here. And call me Bella, I always assume I'm in trouble when I hear 'Ms Swan'. Anyway, Jon, Mamma has to - Jon?"

He was playing in the sandpit already, and when I went over to him, he tutted at me.

"Mamma, what are you still doing here? Go home." Leah burst out laughing and hustled me towards the door.

"Go on, Bella, your orders have been given." I have no choice, but at least he waves to me.

He didn't want to leave at the end of the morning. I had to bribe him to come home with a promise of Thomas the Tank Engine bedtime stories - and that I'd let him skip bath-time. He agreed, and I took him by the hand firmly. I learnt that he'd run if not held on to. Renee's house is just two blocks away - but you can cut through the park, and he likes that. He likes chasing the pigeons, not that I let him. I'm all for letting him chase the crows on our lawn away, because they mess with the flowers, but not the pigeons. Renee lets him, and I can't stop her. And good news today. I got myself a job, just in the mornings, at a doctor's surgery. I can stop letting Renee pay for everything and stop claiming welfare. I can support him. And when he starts first grade next year, I can work longer, so more money. It'll stop me sitting in an empty apartment, fretting over him. Five years, I muse, watching him run ahead to see the ducks. Five years old, and sometimes it seems like barely five minutes. Other times it seems like five years. He comes running back to me, clutching a feather in his hand.

"Look, Mamma, it's a - a -"

"Feather, pet."

"Feather."

"It's a duck feather. Shall we take it to show your Grammy?"

"Yes, Mamma, see Grammy." Definitely five minutes, I think, watching him walk just ahead of me. He stops at the gate, looks up at me with those beautiful eyes. "You're pretty, Mamma."

"You're pretty too, baby."

"Mamma, boys can't be pretty. And Miss Leah says I'm handsome." He says this very proudly. I smile, and stroke his hair back from his face. I should get it cut, but I can't bear to.

"Well, Miss Leah is right, honey. You're Mamma's handsome boy."

When I tuck him into bed, he's already sleepy. I read him a story, and then he goes right to sleep. When I check in just before I go to bed, I whisper the same thing I whisper every night.

"Mamma loves you, Jon. And your daddy would love you too. I'm sorry."

* * *

_**A/N: I told my mother to "go away" on my first day of nursery school. Bless him :) By the way, this chapter is jumpy, because I cover a lot of time in it. We'll be skipping about a bit. just bear with me. Please R&R! love you all xxx**_


	6. Chapter 6

Jon POV

"Jon, you're going to be late." My mother has woken me up in the same way every day since I started high school aged 12. And frequently, she'll follow it up with "Well, you missed your bus. Shoes on, you're walking." Every now and then she'll drive me part way, but mostly she makes me walk. Fair play, I suppose - it's normally my fault.

This time, I make it downstairs in reasonable time. Mum is buttering some toast and humming some tune - badly - under her breath. I steal half her toast, knowing there'll already be more in the toaster, and eat it while looking for my new shoes.

"Mum, where are my new Converse? The one's Grammy brought me the other day?"

"In the entry, where you left them, and where I have asked you three times to remove them from. And for pity's sake, you're dropping crumbs all over."

"Thanks, Mum, sorry Mum." I say, pulling on shoes and jacket at the same time, hooking my bag onto my shoulder.

"Don't forget you're going to the hairdressers after school. And get a decent haircut." I grin at her. My hair has been a source of conflict since I insisted I wanted to "look like a skater boy with issues" as she likes to put it. It's the same colour as hers - chocolate brown, and wavy. But my eyes are blue, where hers are brown. And I look nothing like her. She says, very rarely, that I look like my father.

My father. What do I know about my father? I know a great deal of nothing. The things I don't know about him could fill a book. The things I know wouldn't fill a page. "I would rather not talk about your father just now." She hasn't ever told me a reason for that mysterious sentence, always "I'll tell you when you're older." As every other time she's made me that promise, she has done so, I'm inclined to trust her. But I'm fifteen, sixteen in a month. How much older do I need to be? I'll ask her again soon, but I hate asking at all. It always makes her sad.

But my mother - my mother is an open book on everything, up to my father. Her name is Isabella Marie Swan, but everyone I know calls her Bella. Even Grammy calls her Bella. She's got dark hair and eyes, and she's just hit thirty four. She was eighteen when she had me. I asked her if she regretted having me so young, and she said, without missing a beat, that she'd make the same choice even if someone offered her the chance to change her mind. She's never had a boyfriend, not since I was born anyway. Even though there are people interested. Plenty of people interested. She's just never interested back. Grammy nags her about this - she should start dating. Mum always just rolls her eyes. I don't know if I'm happy about this lack of boyfriends. I guess I never had to like anyone.

I could talk about Mum for hours. But I don't have hours, I have high school to go to.

"Oi, Swan." Jacob Black greets me the same way he's greeted me since he got old enough to insult. So, that's pretty much since second grade.

"Black."

"What's with you? You got you a face like a smacked ass, man." I raise my eyebrow at him.

"You're not from the ghettos, Jake. You live on the same block as me, and I happen to know your dad would beat you silly if he heard you talk like that."

"You got the bus today?"

"I know, impressive, huh."

"So, to repeat: what's with you?"

"Just thinking about my dad."

"Man, why do you do that to yourself? You know it just makes you broody."

"Aw, Jake, you know why. Because Mum never so much as mentions him. Because I know jack all about him."

"Well, ask your Mum about him again. Ask her to tell you about him."

"Yeah, I will."

"Black, Swan. I assume this conversation is _highly_ important to your young lives, seeing as you are still out here after the bell? Get yourselves to classes, now. And Swan, you and I need to have a little chat, most likely involving your mother, seeing as you still think it acceptable to not know your tables or any basic algebra. I'll call her." I watch Gates retreat with an open mouth.

"Shit, man, sucks to be you," Jacob says, as we head to History. "Bella is going to kick your skinny butt."

"Aw, man."

BPOV

I shake my head as he heads out, more toast in hand, and then set about getting myself ready. I get into my beloved truck - one of the first things I brought. Run down and rusty, but solid as a rock. Jon keeps trying to get me to upgrade, says it's embarrassing. I think that's a hint, and he wants his own vehicle when he hits seventeen. I've been collaborating with Renee and Charlie since he hit fifteen, Charlie being the only person in Forks I still talk to. He keeps everything a secret and doesn't talk about it. He knows I don't want to hear it. Neither of them know who Jon's father is - only that he's not Edward's. but anyway, all three of us are going to club together and get him a Volkswagen Rabbit. He and Jake can keep it maintained together. I've never met two people so obsessed with motor vehicles. At least between them they can keep the truck going. I'm working at the elementary school Jon used to go to. And every day, without fail, I eat lunch with Leah, Jon's kindergarten teacher. However, this morning, I barely get in before the desk phone is ringing.

"Good morning, Phoenix Valley Elementary, how can I help?" I always try and say that opener bright and cheerful.

"Hello, may I speak with Isabella Swan?"

"Speaking. Who is this?"

"Ms Swan, I am Henry Gates, I'm Jonathon's mathematics teacher at school."

"OK."

"I was wondering if we could arrange a meeting? We need to discuss Jonathon's progress."

"Certainly, Mr Gates. When were you thinking?"

"As soon as possible." I grit my teeth. Jon is now in serious trouble.

"Would after-school tomorrow suit?"

"Certainly, Ms Swan. Will you be available at three-thirty?"

"I will. Goodbye, Mr Gates."

Leah laughs when I tell her.

"Oh, and I remember when the worst trouble he ever got it was using the finger-paints on the floor."

"So do I, trust me."

"Come on, the worst it's going to be is that he's skipped some classes. It's not the end of the world."

"But he's never been in trouble at school before. I don't know how angry I'm meant to get."

"Not as angry as you got the time he got brought home drunk at fourteen by the cops."

"Less angry than that?"

"Yes. After all, you don't know the full story yet."

JPOV

I don't get a decent haircut, but I dawdle on the way home. I walk up the drive with a degree of fear. Last year, I got brought home by the cops because Jacob and me got drunk in the park and I couldn't run fast enough. She put me into bed, saved everything for the next morning. I came downstairs with a smashing headache and she sat me on the sofa. She raged for ten minutes.

"How could you have been so irresponsible? You know full damn well how I feel about alcohol and drinking! I have never been so disappointed in my life. What on earth would possess you to do something so stupid? Why would you feel the need to go behind my back and lie about staying at Jacob's? I suppose he was with you? My goodness, I'm going to have to tell his father, what will he think of me? He'll think me an abject fool. What on earth did you think you were doing? Oh my God, where did you even get the alcohol? Did you steal it? Do you have a fake ID? If I find out you've been drinking regularly, you are going to go to military school. Are you on drugs too? Are you smoking? I am so angry with you! Jonathon, you are grounded from now until Christmas. You go to school and then come home, that is all. No going to Jake's, no going out on weekends, unless you are with me. Literally, you will do nothing until you can prove you can be trusted." The cops brought me home in March, and she stuck to that grounding until Christmas. And as Jacob got grounded right after she called his father to ask him if Jake had gotten home, or if he'd had to be escorted, we spent a certain number of breaks at school moaning relentlessly. But I never made the same mistake. I wonder how angry she'll be this time.

She isn't back yet when I get in.

_Jon, I went to the grocery store, we're out of milk. We need to have a talk when I get home - who, for instance, is Mr Gates? _

OK, she called me Jon, she isn't that mad. It's always Jonathon when I'm in major trouble. And if she's annoyed, or I'm not listening, it's the full monty. Jonathon Xavier Swan. I can't believe my middle name is Xavier. I've never actually asked her why she called me Jonathon Xavier, I'll have to ask her - but maybe not tonight.

She leaves it until after dinner, by which time I'm on the edge of a nervous breakdown.

"So, what's been going on in math?"

"Nothing."

"Well, Mr Gates said he needed to see me about it. I'm going in tomorrow afternoon after school. You can wait outside while I speak to him."

"I think he wants to see us both."

"No, I'll see him alone. Now, what's been going on?"

"Nothing - and that's the problem."

"You don't like math, huh?"

"No. I don't get it and half of it I'll never use."

"Have you told Mr Gates you don't understand?"

"He'll think I'm stupid."

"Oh, what rubbish. I never got math at school either. But I asked my teacher to explain it more, and I passed. I'll see him tomorrow, and you can tell him you need extra help."

She drives me home after the interview. I decide, what with the atmosphere so good and her seeming so relaxed, that now is a good time to ask her about my father. She's just parked up when I drop the question.

"Mum, why don't you ever talk about my dad? Did he force you into it?" She drops the keys and goes bone white. I feel a horrible jolt as I realise that I've hit the nail on the head, and that she never speaks about him because he raped her…


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Given that some of you have read this story, I'm a little surprised to be getting reviews from people under the impression that Emmett raped Bella. You _know _he didn't. Jonathon has come to a conclusion that his father must have hurt Bella badly because she never talks about him. Try re-reading every now and then, the whole story, not just chapters randomly as I post them.

BPOV

Waves of shock hit me like a speeding freight train when he asks if his father forced me. For the first time, I realise that my silence has given out completely the wrong impression, and hasn't protected him at all. I realise that I am going to have to explain everything, and I sit quiet for a few moments, gathering my thoughts - and taking my courage in both hands.

"Honey, lets go inside. I guess I have some explaining to do."

JPOV

She's still very pale, but she makes us both coffee despite her shaking hands. I carry both mugs into the living room, and we sit down together on the sofa.

"Honey, the first thing you have to know is that your dad did not force me into anything. I mean that. Nothing happened that I didn't want to."

"So why do you never talk about him? Why do you always just say that you'd rather not talk about him, and that you'll tell me when I'm older? Well, I'm older now, and I want to know about my father." She sighs, and the sound is very sad and very painful.

"Yes, I suppose you are. Very well then, I shall tell you. What you want to do then is up to you. If you decide you want to meet him, you shall. If you decide you don't, you don't have to." She sets down her coffee cup with resolution.

"His name was Emmett, Emmett McCarty. We were 18 when we met each other. He first came over when he and his parents first moved in, and I helped them get their heating going. And the thing that made the most impression on me were his eyes. He had the most amazingly blue eyes." She smiles at me. "You have Emmett's eyes. I see him every day when I look at you. And you've inherited his size too. He was six foot six, and solid muscle all the way through. You've probably got a bit of growing left to do, my lad. But anyway."

"You were still living with Gramps?"

"Oh no, darling, and this bit is why I don't ever talk about your father. Because talking about Emmett forces me to remember Edward." Her face twists, contorts, and anger enters her tone. "Edward Masen."

"What, the Edward Masen, Edward Masen as in head of Masen Electricals?"

"Yes, that Edward Masen. He inherited the company from his father last year, when Edward Senior decided it was time to retire. I was in a relationship with him when I met Emmett for the first time."

"But - why wouldn't you want to talk about that?"

"Oh, darling, you will understand. You remember what you said just now, in the car outside?"

"I asked if you didn't like talking about my father - Emmett - because he'd forced you."

"Well, your father was lovely, and I loved him. But Edward was another matter."

"Edward forced you?"

"Edward did a lot more than rape me, Jon. Edward beat me on a regular basis, for almost comical 'misdemeanours' as he put them. I was, in his eyes, his property. I will not describe the things he used to do to me, so don't ask. Believe me when I say that you do not want to know. I was terrified and totally isolated - and not one person even began to guess at the secrets I would hide. He was a very good actor, and I could be a better actress. I hid from everyone, and to this day, you and Emmett are the only people who know. Not even my parents and Phil know. I didn't tell my best friend. Oh, you would have loved Alice, and her girlfriend Rose. Charlie told me - in passing, he knows that I don't like talking about Forks, although he thinks it is because I had to leave your father behind - that they got married last year. I wish I could have been there." She stops, takes a mouthful of coffee. "Darling, please don't judge me for leaving Emmett. When I found out that I was pregnant with you - I was terrified. Edward hadn't touched me for months. I knew that I wouldn't be able to convince him you were his. So I fled - for me, for you and for Emmett's sakes. He would have killed Emmett, most likely, and then beaten me. I couldn't guarantee that you would have survived. When I knew I was pregnant - I knew that I wasn't going to stick around any longer. You were going to have a life, and a proper one, one where your mother loved you dearly. I had a reason to fight back, and I fought. I got on a plane to Arizona that same day. I called Renee from a diner here, and I told her that I had left Edward, and I was pregnant, and that the child wasn't his. She doesn't know whose child you are. I kept everything a secret. Everything. I had to. I convinced myself that I was doing the right thing for everyone."

"Does Emmett know?"

"About what?"

"Me. And did he know about Edward?"

"He knew about Edward. I made him swear he wouldn't tell anyone. I didn't tell him - he - he head us arguing when he was walking past the house one night, and he heard Edward hit me. I went over the next day - I can't even remember why I did now. And we got - well, I got well and truly swept off my feet. He doesn't know about you." I don't know how I feel right now.

My mother's past, I realise, is as dark and twisted as evil itself. I feel anger - but it isn't at her, as most people would expect. It's at Edward, and even a little at Emmett.

"You can say honestly how you feel right now, honey."

"I - I don't know, Mum. I'm angry, but not at you. I'm angry at Edward - and I don't think I should ever meet him, I'd do something stupid. And I'm angry at Emmett too."

"Why?"

"He didn't come looking for us, did he? Didn't try very hard. He could have come after you."

"He was 18, and I told him I didn't want him to."

"Why would you do that?"

"Because I - I was afraid. I have no excuses for depriving you of your father. I did it simply because I am a coward. I would understand if you hated me. I shouldn't have done it. I should have got Emmett and run. But I convinced myself that he wouldn't want to know. We were so young. I wanted you to have a life - but I wanted him to have one too."

"Because you didn't."

"No, honey, I didn't mean it that way. I had - have - you. And that has always been more than enough for me. Always. I love you, and that will never, ever change."

"Do you love Emmett?"

"It's been nearly sixteen years. I have no idea how I'd react if I saw him again," she says, understanding my real question perfectly.

"I think I need to think about this."

"Of course. You can ask me anything, you know that."

"Why did you call me Jonathon Xavier?" She laughs for the first time since we started talking.

"Because I liked the name Jonathon and Xavier was uncommon. I wanted you to be unique."

"Mum, would you want to go back to Forks?"

"Oh darling, I don't know. Yes - but no. I would, in a way, because I could see Alice and Rose, see Charlie. And no because of the memories."

"Can we go back?" She looks at me for a very long time in silence. For a minute, I think she's going to say no. I wouldn't blame her if she did, but I want to understand. I want to meet Emmett, and I want to talk to him.

"Is that what you really want?"

"Yes."

"Then we can go back. But not yet. Finish the year at school, we'll go back in the summer holidays. It's only a month away. Then you'll be sixteen, and I can make all the arrangements in good time."

BPOV

I'm going back to Forks.

And I have no idea how to feel.


	8. Chapter 8

BPOV

"Jonathon, are you packed?" I call up the stairs. "Make sure it's finished tonight, I want to be able to have breakfast and go tomorrow. The cab will be here at six."

"I'm nearly done."

"You need help?"

"No, Mum, it's fine!" I leave him to it, and about half an hour later, he comes bumping down the stairs with his suitcase.

"You've only got one case?"

"Yeah, so?"

"We're going for two months. Maybe more."

"Yeah - so?" I roll my eyes.

"OK, but we aren't going shopping when you decide you're sick of wearing the same thing."

"Fine, I'll pack another case."

I wake him up at five. He grumbles and complains and bitches. I take his duvet and vacate. I hear him crash into the bathroom, and then the shower start running. I take his second suitcase downstairs, put it by the front door with all my things. I'm well prepared for him to come down with a hold-all. I'm on the phone to Charlie when he comes in and starts looking for breakfast. Of course, there isn't any - everything's been cleared out. I've rented the house for two months to a young couple with a kid. They're moving onto Europe, but want to spend some time with her parents. Two months will suit them fine. I'm leaving the keys with Billy, Jake's dad, and they're going to arrive tomorrow. All I need to now is make up Jon's bed with fresh sheets, put his sleeping bag away in the loft.

"Hey, Dad, it's Bella."

"Hey, honey. How are you?"

"We're good. Well, Jon looks like he's been hit over the head with something very large and very heavy, but he'll recover. The flight leaves Phoenix at nine thirty, we're due to land in Seattle at one thirty, and then we'll get a cab for Forks. We should be with you by three."

"A cab from Seattle? Won't that be pricey?"

"I booked it, he's doing it for thirty dollars. It worked out cheaper than flying the last stretch and you know Jon doesn't really like flying."

"Well, I'll pay for it."

"No, Dad -"

"Bella, be quiet. I'm really glad you're coming back, honey."

"OK, Dad," I say, quietly. I can't return that, I just can't. "I'll see you later, Dad."

"See you, Bella." I barely get the phone down when Jon starts questioning.

"Mum, where's breakfast?"

"At the airport, in a café."

"What?"

"We're getting it at the airport, now will you please get ready. The cab will be here in about ten minutes."

We get there in good time, check in with no complications. Only when the bags have gone, and I'm holding the tickets and the passports, only then do I give in to Jon and let us seek breakfast. He bolts down bacon and egg like he hasn't eaten for months.

"You do that in Forks, people will think I don't feed you."

"I'm hungry. Some evil woman woke me up at five."

"She sounds terrible," I say, laughing.

"Nah, she's OK most of the time."

"Finish your drink, we'll have a bit of a wander round the shops. You can buy some snacks for the plane, I'm not paying airline prices."

We have our bit of a wander, I buy a book and some food, he buys food. They call our flight, we go to the gate, do more waiting, then they call our tickets, we get on the plane.

And this is the longest wait of all. The four hours from Phoenix to Seattle, on a plane that Jon isn't happy with. But he hides it, and takes my hand.

"Mum, you know it isn't too late. We can still just get off the plane." The doors close right as he finishes speaking. "OK, so we can't just get off the plane. But we can turn right back round in Seattle if you want. You don't have to go back there."

"You want to meet your father and that's your right. So you can meet him. This is what we agreed, and this is what we're going to do. You aren't doing it alone."

"Maybe I should -"

"It was a journey I had to make alone, and I will not put that on your shoulders. I need to do this too. But I'm scared." He looks at me.

"What can I do?"

"Just hold my hand."

Ironically, after all the worry and fretting over the plane, Jon falls asleep. He leaves me to bite my nails and muse over all the bad stuff that could possibly happen. He wakes up when we land, the bump jolting him out of it.

"Are we there?"

"Yes - come on, sleepy-head. We got a taxi ride to go yet."

The driver is holding a neat sign with the name "Swan" written on it in neat hand. He helps us load the car, and chats companionably as we get in.

"Forks, huh? Me and my wife live on the Rez - Harry Clearwater, at your service, Miss. Don't suppose you know Charlie?"

"He's my father."

"No way!" Harry exclaims, pleasure in his tones. "Not seen you for years, Bella. Why, you must have been only six when I last saw you. You got mighty pretty."

"Well, thanks Harry," I say, smiling at him. "How is Miss Sue?"

"She's fine, dear, and I see you've lost none of that pretty Southern accent and charm. Who is this young man? Tall, isn't he?"

"This is my son, and yes, tell me about it." I suddenly remember that Billy is from the Rez. "Harry, I don't suppose you remember Billy Black?"

"Of course I do, Bella, I'm not senile just yet," he says, smiling at me through the rear-view mirror. "Not seen him for years now. Not since his wife died in that accident and he moved down south with the kids - the youngest just a baby."

"Jon here is friends with Jacob Black, Billy's boy. Lovely man."

"Small worlds, eh, Bella?"

"Indeed it is, Harry, indeed it is."

I give Harry a tip when he puts me and Jon in front of Charlie's house.

"Harry, if you don't mind, could you keep the news that I'm back in town to yourself?"

"Certainly." He's barely driven off when Jon is gathering up suitcases. I steel myself, and go up to the door. I already know it's open, so I get inside as rapidly as possible. I don't see anyone, and I hope that nobody sees me. There are people in Forks I want to see again - Alice and Rose for instance. But I want to meet them on my terms, not in public and not when other people will see me. I need to find Emmett. Jon wants to meet his father, but I resolve to wait until he's gone to bed that night before I ask Charlie any questions.

"Bella, honey, can I get you a drink?"

"Sure, Dad, just coffee."

"Right before bed?"

"I don't think I want to sleep tonight, Dad," I say, sadly. I don't, I can't. I don't know what I'll see when I close my eyes. I'm scared of what I might see in my dreams. He makes us both coffee.

"So, why are you really back, Bells? And don't tell me it's just a holiday. I know you too well."

"Damn right. I'm back for one reason, and that reason is because Jon wanted to meet his father. He has a right to do that."

"Are you ever going to tell me who his father is, Bella? Because I know it isn't Edward, I didn't need you to tell me that when you sent the pictures over the years."

"No, Dad, it isn't Edward. Dad, you have to understand that - I need you to understand that I can't tell you all of it yet. I haven't even told Jon most of it. I'm not ready yet."

"I don't know, Bella. In your eyes sometimes - you look afraid of something. Who is his father?" I take a deep breath, and look him in the eyes.

"Emmett McCarty. And believe me, I wouldn't tell you if I didn't need to know where I'd find him."

"McCarty? The family who moved in when you were 18?"

"Yes. Sixteen years ago, while I was still with Edward, I had an affair with Emmett. I got pregnant, I got scared, and so I left. And I left for a lot of reasons, Dad, not just because I didn't want the gossip about me."

"And you won't tell me what those reasons are, will you?"

"Not right now. I will, I promise. But tonight is not the night. Are they still here, Dad?"

"Yes, they are. Still living in the same house too - although Emmett's moved out, obviously, he's 34 now. Carlisle is still at the hospital, Esme interior designs and Emmett is - well, Bells, Emmett is my Sergeant at the station. And Jasper is - I don't think you ever met him, he's the older boy, Emmett's brother - Jasper is a teacher here."

"Dad, you haven't mentioned Jon, have you? To Emmett? You haven't mentioned him?"

"No, no! you told me not to tell anyone! I said nothing to anyone here, even though it was damn hard not to go around showing every person the pictures of my grandson as a baby."

"Thanks, Dad," I say, relaxing. Charlie can no more lie than I can.

"Bella, if Jon wants to meet his son -"

"I'm going to have to impose on you terribly. Can you bring Emmett here? Tomorrow night?"

"I can. The boys at the station were meant to be going out for drinks anyway. It'll be no trouble to ask him to drive by here first, so I can grab something. I'll get him to come in with me."

"Driving?"

"Emmett doesn't drink. Not even a drop at Christmas. I asked him why that was once. He said that the woman he loved had been hurt by alcohol." I have no right to ask - but my masochist self goes right on and asks him anyway.

"Is he single?"

"Yes. I've never seen him with a woman, never heard him mention one. He told one of the boys at the station that he was waiting for her."

Those words buzz when I eventually go to bed. He isn't waiting for me. There's no way he waited sixteen years.

I pray to whoever might be listening that when I see him, I feel nothing.


	9. Chapter 9

I wake up the next morning after a couple of hours of spotty sleep. Charlie is still home, it's barely six yet.

"Are you going to discuss Emmett coming over with Jon?"

"Yeah, when he wakes up, I'll ask him how he feels about it. I'll call your direct line to let you know if he's - well."

"Yeah, I get it, Bells. What are you going to do for dinner? I got sandwich stuff in yesterday, and there's some stuff in the freezer - fish, potatoes in the fridge."

"I'll put something together, Dad, don't worry. You eating?"

"No, I'll go out with the boys as planned, but I won't drink. I'll be back around midnight, maybe. Give you all plenty of time."

"You don't have to, Dad."

"I might shoot him on sight today, you know that, right?"

"No, Dad, if you're shooting anyone, you'd have to be shooting me. I left him, not the other way around."

"And he got my girl pregnant." I laugh, I can't help it.

"Don't shoot him, Dad."

"Either way, I need to not be here tonight." He's quiet for awhile, looking at the clock. "I'm going to be late. But one thing, Bella - are you going to call Alice?"

"She's still here?"

"Her and Rose."

"Yeah, I will, Dad. But maybe tomorrow, OK? I don't want to overload Jon."

"You don't want to overload yourself, either, honey. It doesn't have to be tonight, you know."

"I'll lost my nerve if I have to wait any longer. Jon deserves this. I've made him wait too long already."

He left for work, and I stayed standing in the kitchen. I sighed as I went through to the living room, then caught my breath. The photos of me are still up. Including a picture taken by Alice, right before I left Forks, me laughing about something off camera. Rose is standing in the background, also laughing. I remember that photograph. The day I went round to see them, the day before. - the day before Emmett. The day - and I force myself to say his name in my head, forcing myself to remember, because now I must - the day Edward got home at four in the morning and broke one of my ribs. I spy a bright red leather album on a shelf, and zero towards it.

Tears well up as I open it. Every photograph I ever sent Charlie of Jon - right from the scan pictures up until last month's school photograph. I trace the photographs with my fingers, his first tooth being proudly displayed, the gappy smile when he lost both front teeth on the same day. New born, being held in hospital, me looking terrible, but happy. Of course, there's the picture of Charlie holding his grandson, when Jon is barely a week old, when he flew down for a few days, taking some time out of work. Jon goes from happy to screaming in a rage about something. I've still got the album on my lap hours later when Jon materialises.

"Mum? What's that?"

"Come sit down, honey."

JPOV

She flips the album to the first page, a fuzzy scan, an ultrasound.

"Who's that?"

"You, at 12 weeks. There's your head."

"Blimey." She turns the pages.

"That's the day you were born. Seven pounds, six ounces, and the most beautiful blue eyes the consultant had ever seen. Four hours of labour."

"Whose pictures are these?"

"Your Granddads. I sent him hundreds of pictures. And this is you at one week old."

"I looked weird." She laughs, and strokes the baby's head in the photograph.

"You were downright adorable, honey. Such lovely eyes. Anyway," she says, laying aside the album. "you can peruse those at your leisure later on. I have something to ask you."

"OK."

"Your dad, Emmett, is working at the police station. He's a sergeant there. Now, all you have to say is when you want to meet him. Tonight, if you wish. I've already established with your Granddad that it's possible for that to happen."

"He knows we're here?"

"No, no. you don't have to meet him until you want to."

"Then I want to meet him tonight. But you should meet him first."

"Pardon?"

"Mum, think about it. It's going to be a massive shock for you to be thrown into the system, especially as you're going to be telling him he has a son. Then that way, he gets a choice too. He won't have to meet me tonight if he doesn't want to."

"What did I do to deserve you, huh?" I'm shocked to see tears in her dark eyes.

"Mamma," I say, using the address I only ever use when I'm worried, scared or in pain. Right now, it's all three. "Mamma, don't cry. It'll be OK. I know how hard this is for you." I take her hands, and look at her. "Why don't you call your friends, Mamma? Alice and Rose? That'd give us a feel for meeting people."

"Sensible kid. OK. Pass the phone?" I hand it to her, and without even thinking, she dials.

APOV

The phone in the kitchen rings, and Rose shouts down the stairs.

"Aly, grab that!"

"What did your last servant die of? Can't you grab the extension?"

"Please, darling?" I grab the phone the hook, checking the caller ID.

"Charlie?" A voice catches on the end, a hitching breath, almost like the beginnings of a sob. "Hello?" I say, uncertain now. Certainly doesn't sound like Charlie.

"Alice?" a woman's voice says, trembling slightly.

"Speaking."

"Alice, it's - it's Bella," the voice says in a rush. "It's me."

"But- but - but," I splutter, helplessly. Rose, who's just wandered into the kitchen, stares at me in bewilderment. "How?" I gasp out, reaching blindly for Rose's hand.

"Long story. I'm at Charlie's. Can you come over?"

"Sure. Give us five minutes."

"Say hi to Rose for me. There's someone here who wants to meet you both."


	10. Chapter 10

APOV

My hands are shaking when I put the phone down.

"Alice, God, talk to me!" Rose demands, shaking me lightly. "Who was on the phone?"

"We need to go out."

"What, now?"

"Yes, right now. Rose, that was Bella, on the phone, it was Bella."

"Emmett," she breathes gently. We stand and look at each other.

"We can't tell him. That'll be Bella's business."

Still, I floor the gas on the way over to Charlie's. A young man I don't know and don't care about at this minute answers my frantic knocking.

"You must be Alice. Mum is right through there." I ignore him and hurtle past, and into Bella's arms, the arms of the friend I haven't seen for sixteen years, and she's crying, I'm crying and the boy with the blue eyes is watching us, while Rose hangs back a little. She didn't know Bella that well, but she loved her too. I see her take the boy through to the kitchen, just as Bella and I lower to the sofa, still clinging to each other.

RPOV

"Mum?" the blonde woman queries, looking at me with sharp eyes. "You're Bella's son?"

"Yes. You're Rosalie?"

"Rose. What's your name? I didn't know Bella had a son."

"Jonathon, but people call me Jon." I look at him. He reminds me of someone, in his build, and those blue eyes. I think it's just because he looks like Bella.

"Jon, how old are you?"

"Turned 16 last month. Why are you looking at me like you've seen a damn ghost?"

"Jon, I've told you, don't talk like that. Rose, it's so damn good to see you again." Bella pulls me into a hug, which I return, still looking over her shoulder at Jon. Finally, I can't stand it.

"Bella, is this, is he, I mean, Jon -"

"I was pregnant with Jon when I left."

"And she's still the best Mum I could have." Jon faces me with his chin well up.

"Those eyes."

"I know. I know."

"You both know Emmett?"

"Well enough to recognise eyes that shade of blue when they pop up on someone whose mother we haven't seen for sixteen and a half years." Alice puts her hand on my arm.

"Rose, darling, I'm sure there is a good reason for all this. And right now, these reasons are not our business. Right now, we need to catch up with Bella. Like where she's been for sixteen years and why she still likes baggy jeans at the age of 34."

"Oh god, no, save me."

"Mum?"

"Jon, we must introduce you to the concept of making over Bella. Alice objects to the fact that Bella has no fashion sense that Alice recognises and her favourite activity is making her over. Apparently even after sixteen years, this hasn't changed."

"You're going to make Mum over?"

"Like hell she is."

"You tell me off when I say that."

"Circumstances dictate, my boy, circumstances dictate. Why don't you go with Rosalie and show her the photo album, while I tell Alice where to shove her make-over. I don't want you to hear the language I'm going to use to do it."

"OK," Lucas says, looking mildly nervous. He points in the direction of the living room. "You want to, you know, come along." I nod, and we close the door on Alice and Bella.

He sits me down, and puts a photo album on his lap.

"You know my father, don't you? You know Emmett?"

"Yeah, I know him. He's a friend."

"A good friend?"

"Yeah, a good friend. He's your father, then?"

"Bella told me the story only a month ago. Every time I asked her when I was younger, about who he was, she always used to say she'd tell me when I was older. So a month before I turned sixteen, I asked her again, and I told her that I was old enough to know, and that I wanted to who he was and why he wasn't around. And because she never spoke about him, and whenever I brought up the subject of my father she would go all quiet and sad, I leapt to a conclusion. I asked her if he'd forced her."

"What?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much what she said. So she sat me down and she told me the real story, that Emmett was my father."

"I get the feeling it doesn't end there."

"No, but the rest of the story is my mother's story to tell. Not mine, so you'll have to ask her. I'm sorry."

"No, don't worry about it. So, what's this album."

"Baby album. It's all the pictures Mum sent to Gramps over the years. From the first scan right up to the last school photo."

"You going to let me see?"

"Sure." He passes the album to me. I trace the photo of Bella holding a newborn Jon, looking exhausted but happy.

"Has she been happy, Jon? These years, has she been happy?"

"Yeah, I think she has. I never saw her cry, you know? She was always laughing. She seemed happy, but I don't know - I think a little part of her heart wasn't happy." He looks at me, and it's a long, straight stare, and I'm reminded so harshly of Emmett I nearly gasp with the force of it. "She loved my father - she loved Emmett. When she finally spoke about him, she loved him, it was so obvious on her face, in her eyes, in her voice."

"You don't have to justify it to me."

"I know. But people tend to judge anyway. I wanted you to know that she did what she thought was right, and she had damn good reasons for the choice she made. I wanted you to know that my mother is selfless, and brave and that she loved Emmett. As far as I know - because there sure as hell haven't been any guys on the scene in all the sixteen years we weren't here - she loves him still. And her choice still worries her."

"Bella always did feel things so intensely."

"Still does. Losing you and Alice? That hurt, badly. She used to talk about you, you know? I used to hear her on the phone, late at night, when I was meant to be in bed. I used to hear her talking to Gramps, and she'd always, always ask after you both."

Looking through the album with Jon, him explaining some of the pictures, I can't help but wonder about what's happening in the kitchen.

APOV

I watch Bella closely as she makes coffee. Clearly a creature of habit still. Mugs ready, coffee in, before the kettle's boiled. She hasn't aged so much as a day, but manages to look older anyway. I think it's her hair. It's shorter now, shoulder length instead of touching her waist. Soft layers add depth to her curls. I figure it's because that worry line is back.

"Bella, why'd you go? All those years ago - we literally woke up one morning, and you were gone. When I didn't hear from you, I called Charlie. I asked him if you were sick. He said that he guessed we hadn't heard, then told us you'd left town. Didn't even tell me where you'd gone."

"You'd've come after me."

"Would that have been such a bad thing? I called Renee too. She said she hadn't seen you." "I told her to say that. I needed it to seem like I just disappeared. I had to go, go right away, I couldn't tell anybody. Only people who knew where I was? Charlie and Renee and Phil. Only people who needed to know. I wish I could've told you, Alice."

"You could tell me now."

"You'll have figured most of it out." She hands me my coffee and we sit down at the kitchen table. "I was with Edward, for a start."

"And yet Jon is quite clearly not Edward's son."

"No. Jon, as Rose already quite rightly surmised, is Emmett's son. That right there was a reason for leaving. In a relationship with one man, pregnant by another. This is a damn small town, Alice. I wasn't strong enough - not like you were - to face the gossips and the finger-pointing."

"But that alone wouldn't have made you leave."

"No, Alice. That wasn't the only reason. I would've stayed. If my relationship with Edward had been a normal, every day, walk-in-the-park deal, I would have told him I was leaving him and moved back in with Charlie, with the intent of moving in with Emmett if that was what he wanted." She takes a good steadying mug of coffee, then stares at it and sighs. I get up and go over to a cupboard, taking down a bottle of wine.

"Charlie keeps it here, for me and Rose." I produce two wine glasses, pour her a decent measure. She knocks the entire glass down in one, and I give her a second glass. She's more sedate this time, simply sipping it.

"God, _God_, I needed that."

"I figured."

"Look, Alice, before I tell you all the reason why I left, I need you to tell me something first."

"Anything."

"What exactly is Edward doing now?"

"Well, he's either running the company - did you know he'd taken over? - or he's here. Here rarely, but -"

"Let me guess, the fucker is in town."

"Indeed he is. For a few weeks."

"What happened when I left?"

"Nothing. Not even a word. He never said you'd left him. But he was so angry when word started getting around that you'd left town and therefore left Edward. Guess he didn't much like people gossiping about him, and there was gossip. All sorts of speculation. That you'd eloped, that you'd run off with another man, that you were in rehab. Charlie let them all pretty much run the course, sitting only on the rumour that you'd actually died. He said that was nonsense. Edward got really drunk one night, in a bar, and he called you a filthy whore. Emmett was there, we all were, the three of us. He went straight for Edward."

"Did he get in some good hits?"

"Hell yes. Edward needed Carlisle to stitch his face up. I think that was a sore point - the father of the man who beaten seven colours of crap out of him cleaning the wounds. Emmett yelled something about how he was doing it for you. Someone called the police and Charlie showed up. Heard the whole story, told Edward to watch what he said or next time, _he'd_ be the one throwing the punches, and shook Emmett's hand. Edward Senior backed up Charlie, so there wasn't much Edward could do about it. He never insulted you in public again though."

"And what about Emmett? After I left - and be honest with me, Alice, please - what happened?"

"He went a bit psycho. He pitched up on my doorstep about a week after you skipped out - I'd only just found out myself - and he looked horrible. Hadn't shaved, looked a bit wild. He was waving this grubby bit of paper at me, yelling that you'd gone. Took me an hour to get a coherent and rational sentence out of him. We kept him going, me and Rose, made him finish high school, made him go for a job with the police. Charlie accepted him, and then he found purpose, Bella. All of a sudden, he had a mission. Never told any of us what it was. But every single time they got a guy for violence of any kind involving a woman, he got mad. Like major mad. And when they arrested Edward for speeding - it was so trivial, Emmett was the arresting officer - I've never seen anybody go manic like that. He didn't sleep for two days, kept muttering about confessions and revenge. Frightened the hell out of me." I look at her. She's gripping her glass of wine.

"Alice, carry on."

"He cried, Bella. He cried the day they let Edward go. He said that he'd let you down. It was just one more thing he never explained. He was so furious. He doesn't talk about you any more. He used to. For I think a good ten years, he talked about you at least twice a week. Then he stopped. I think, even though Charlie denied it, that he thought you'd died. He stopped talking about you. And whenever anyone tried to, he'd stop them. Change the subject, avoid the question, go silent or simply ignore the mention had ever been made."

"It's no more than I deserve. No more. And yet I'm still upset by that. I've no right to be. But I am. It's time I explained, I guess." She downs her glass of wine. She frowns a little, then gets up. She opens another cupboard and takes down a bottle of whisky. I'm mildly alarmed, and it must show on my face. "It's fine. You might want a slug of this. This isn't going to be a fairytale." She pours a sizable amount into both our glasses, and then takes a gulp. "You never liked Edward, while we were together all those years ago. You always said he wasn't good for me, that I could do better. You were right, you were so, so right. He was a million miles from good for me. In fact, he was downright bad for me, bad for my health, bad for my wellbeing. Certainly bad for a baby. Edward," she says, with awful finality in her tones, "was a cheating, lying, violent fucker who believed I was there for three things: for domestic help, for sex and for using as his own personal punch bag.

"I can count the bruises, Alice, even now. The scars and the broken bones. My ribs, my nose, my fingers and my wrist. Nobody is that clumsy. He was a fucker and a bastard and my regret, my only regret in life was that I refused to see it back then. That is why I had to leave when I got pregnant. Edward hadn't touched me for a month, over a month - he'd know that a child wasn't his. I did what I thought needed to be done to keep everybody involved safe. Me, my baby, and Emmett. There's no doubt in my mind that he would have killed Emmett. And I wasn't going to let that happen. I loved Emmett. Loved him much more than I should have - barely even knew him. I loved him for longer than I had any right to love him, after I left. I still feel guilty for leaving the way I did. He deserved better. I still feel low for depriving Emmett of his son, Jon of his father."

We're silent for a while. Bella finishes her drink very quietly, makes more coffee, pours it and drinks it scalding hot. I'm trying to collect my temper. Right now, going and getting Charlie's hunting rifle and hunting Edward down and riddling him with bullets seems like a really great plan. Poor, poor Bella. Poor Emmett. But Edward? Edward needs to hope and pray that I don't see him.

"Alice, please say something."

"I'll kill him. You do know that, right? That if I see him, and opportunity presents itself, I will kill him."

"Scary thing, there? I know you mean it." She covers my hands with hers, looks at me. "Don't, Alice. I need you. Selfish as that is, after all these years without a word, I need you here now. You can't be here if you're in jail for murder - even if that would give me satisfaction. And besides, you'll have to get in line." It's my turn to raise an eyebrow. "Charlie will have to know this story one day. And when he finds out - will you help me hide his bullets?"

"No, I'll help him load the damn gun." I get up from my chair and put my arms around her. She wraps her arms around me, and sighs softly. "I can't even begin to imagine what you've been through. And I'm not saying that seeing Emmett again will be easy. He'll probably be angry. I'm not going to lie and say that he'll just fall right at your feet. It's been sixteen years, and it hit him hard, Bella, it hit him really hard. He'll be mad. And then you're going to have to tell him that Jon not only exists, but is his son, his sixteen year old son. That won't be an easy thing to be told. You got a plan?"

"Sort of. Charlie is going to bring him back here tonight. I'll meet him - Jon wants me to see him first. He's a bright kid, Alice, sees things better than I do. He knows it'll overload him if he meets me and the first thing out of my mouth is 'Hey, Emmett, good to see you, guess what? You've got a sixteen year old kid and here he is. His name's Jon, have fun bonding!' No. Can't do that to him. So I will meet him tonight, and if he can stand the sight of me for more than two seconds, and if he doesn't tell me to shove it and walk back out the door, we'll talk, and I'll bring up the subject. That way it is Emmett's choice whether he wants to meet him tonight."

BPOV

Alice and Rose stay for another hour, during which time I call Charlie and tell him the plan - that I do want Emmett to come over tonight, but Jon being brought into the equation is debatable. He tells me that sounds like a good idea. Alice and Rose both depart and Jon retreats upstairs. I look at the clock. They'll be here in half an hour. What do I do? I eye the wine bottle. No, getting plastered is not a good plan, not a good plan, I repeat to myself, putting it away safe in the cupboard. I catch myself biting my nails and hate myself for it. I've just realised that this is all one huge mistake when I hear car doors closing and Charlie's voice asking Emmett to just come up to the house to help him find something.

I take a deep breath, and square my shoulders. I feel like the executioner has arrived when the door opens.

EPOV

Charlie gets me to come into the house with him, asking me to help him find his wallet. Typical Charlie, never knows where a damn thing is when he needs it. I could almost swear I'm being watched, but I dismiss it as utter nonsense. Charlie opens the door, and I notice it isn't locked.

"Charlie, surely your front door should be locked when you aren't here? I mean, sure, small town and all, but still."

"No, it's fine. You try the front room, I'll check the kitchen." I go on into the living room, spy his wallet straight away on the mantelpiece, half behind a photograph. I deliberately avoid looking at the girl in it. Not going down that road again. I hear footsteps behind me.

"Charlie, your wallet is here, it was on the mantelpiece."

"Oh, thanks, Emmett. Come on then." We're just at the door when footsteps start down the upstairs hall, and then hit the stairs. I turn around automatically, stretching my lips into a smile, thinking Alice or Rose came over for a bit, maybe to tidy or cook. But the woman coming down the stairs isn't Alice, and she isn't Rose. She's little, dark and her hair falls in hauntingly familiar waves around her face. The smile freezes on my face, I feel my jaw drop, and she stops just before the last step.

"Hello, Emmett." I force my frozen lips to move, and Charlie takes one tiny step forward.

"This is some horrible joke? Charlie, this isn't actually happening?"

"I'm sorry. You're awake, not dreaming, not mad. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. For everything." I let the silence fall into awkward. Charlie retreats out of the door, his car starts and leaves. The woman on the stairs doesn't move, doesn't stir, just looks at me steadily. A flush stains her skin as I stare back, but her gaze doesn't drop. Her name falls into the silence like a stone, and a single tears falls and she nods.

"Isabella."

It's _her. _


	11. Chapter 11

EPOV

The silence stretches into the uncomfortable. I won't be the one to break it. She's biting her lip, and every catch makes my heart flip, my stomach knot and my head scream at me. It's so achingly, gut-wrenchingly familiar. My head is telling me to leave. I turn around, and make blindly for the door. Can't do this. Can't.

"Emmett, wait!" she cries, suddenly shattering silence into a million glittering shards. I turn around. She's directly in front of me. She looks up at me with those eyes, and I feel my heart break all over again. "Please." I clear my throat, trying to coax enough spit to make my voice work. Although I don't know what I'd say if I could speak. "Before you walk out, which you have every right to do, we should talk. Do you want coffee? Tea? Wine, beer, whiskey? Diet coke?"

"Coffee," I croak. "Coffee, please."

Neither of us speak again until we've had our first mouthfuls of scalding hot coffee. I still can't believe it. She's here, she's back. And she's going to explain what she promised to explain all those years ago. But she's squaring up to it, I can see, and I can also see that she hasn't got the courage to start this conversation.

"You left." She winces at the finality.

"Yes, and I'm sorry. I am so, so sorry."

"Don't keep saying that you're sorry. Just don't."

"OK."

"You left me. After everything. After it all happened, all I got was a note and you gone."

"I know. And if there was any way to tell you the truth back then, I would have done it."

"Why didn't you? What was so terrible that you couldn't just tell me? What was so horrific that you had to leave town without telling anyone, not even Alice, where you were going?"

"Christ," she says, rubbing her hands over her face and through her hair in frustration and anxiety. "Christ, I don't - I thought - I thought when the time came I'd know how to do this. That I'd know what to say and how to say it. But I haven't got a clue."

"Just say it."

"Edward. I had to leave partly because he was in the picture. I swear to you, I would have tried to find a way. And I was also trying to protect you, to make sure - I guess to make sure you could keep living your life. I was complicated, Emmett." My name on her lips still sounds right. How the hell is that OK? After all these years.

"You were complicated anyway. What could have made it worse?" She doesn't answer me right away. She looks down at her coffee, and she's thinking hard. I recognise that expression on her face. "You've cut your hair."

"It seemed - appropriate, once I hit 30. A bit more styled, looks more professional. And because -" she breaks off suddenly, bites her lips. "Emmett, would you rather be told groundbreaking news, or shown it?"

"Shown it."

She goes through to the living room, indicating that I should join her. She picks what looks like a photo album up off the coffee table, and puts it in my hands.

"Look at it. Then ask me the obvious question when you're finished."

All the same boy. Bella's son. Bella has a child. I look at the picture of her in hospital, cuddling a tiny baby, clearly tired out.

"Is this -"

"Ask the obvious question when you're done," she says, softly, staring at a photograph on the mantelpiece. It's the same photograph I found Charlie's wallet behind. And now I look at it. It's from back when we were 18, it must have been. Her and Alice, arms around each other, laughing about something. Not even acknowledging the camera. Charlie has a copy of it on his desk at work. I wonder if he knows about Edward.

"It's not the obvious question. Does Charlie know?"

"Know what?"

"About Edward. About what he used to do to you?"

"Is Edward still walking around with full use of all limbs and body parts?"

"Yes."

"Then there is your answer. No, Charlie doesn't know. I will tell him, but this isn't the right time." I finish the photo album, and close it quietly. "Ask it," she whispers, sounding choked. "Ask me the obvious question."

"Is this boy your son?"

"Yes."

"When is his birthday?"

"June 11th."

"How old is he?"

"He's just turned sixteen."

The silence stretches like a bomb waiting to explode. I can hear her breathing. I can hear my heart slamming in my chest. Sixteen, birthday in June.

"He was full-term?"

"Yes. Almost to the day."

"Then this boy is my son." She nods, looking right at me. Somehow, that cools my anger. She can look me in the eye, look me in the eye and confirm this news. I'd be angrier, wouldn't be able to understand why, if she's stared away, said yes. But this open gaze makes me want to hear her out. It makes me want to listen.

"Any question, ask me any question, and I swear to you on everything I love that I will tell you the absolute concrete truth."

"He is my son? And that is very certain."

"Undoubtedly. Edward hadn't touched me for over a month, it wasn't his. He was yours, I knew that, and I left so I could keep him."

"You never even thought about an abortion?"

"Yes, I did," she admits. "I've never been so terrified in my life. Never, not when Edward hit me for the first time, not when he broke a bone for the first time. I was petrified. I didn't know how to deal with it. I wondered, I thought about going out of state for a few days, getting it secretly, then coming back. I had the phone in hand, ready to call a clinic."

"But you didn't."

"I couldn't, couldn't put the numbers into the phone, couldn't dial. I can't say for sure, can't say for certain, but I think it was because I knew he was yours. So I did the only thing I could do. I left Forks, and went back to Arizona. Went back to my mother. I had my baby, and I brought him up on my own. And I am not complaining. I'd do it all again, I honestly would. He's my son - and I love him."

"Do you regret anything?"

"Yes. I regret leaving you so much. But I can't even bring myself to regret that fully."

"Why?" I ask her, baffled.

"Because you got to have your life. You didn't need me messing with it. I made the choice I thought had to be made to keep my baby and the man I loved safe. And I wanted you to be happy. I didn't think you'd be interested in a baby."

"It wasn't your decision to make. That should have been my choice!"

BPOV

He's angry. Finally, finally, he's angry. Angry I can handle, but calm, straight talking is beyond me. I can understand anger and hate. I can't understand rational right now.

"You would have stopped me, you would have come with me!"

"I should have! I should have done both!"

"And what would that have done, Emmett? I wanted you to be able to go out and find a girl, settle down and have your own family! I didn't want to be the ghost of the past!"

"You were always he ghost of the goddamn past, Bella! Sixteen years, _sixteen goddamn years_, and I have never stopped thinking about you! You were the ghost of the past by not being there!"

"I needed to know that you were safe! Edward didn't know about our affair, and that meant you were safe! If we'd've disappeared together, he would have come after us, and he would have hurt you. I never wanted you to go through that!"

"You can't know how it would have been."

"Nor can you. Were you honestly ready to be a father at eighteen?"

"No."

"That's why I left. I left to protect my baby, I left to protect you, and yes, I left to protect myself. I left because I was a goddamn coward and I will debate that decision for the rest of my life, wondering if I did the right thing! Do you seriously think that it was easy to walk away? That I didn't have to think about it for hours? That every single nudge, every kick, and every single special moment after he was born didn't make me ache for you in here?" I fist my hand over my heart. "You think I didn't _care?" _His face hardens.

"It doesn't seem like you cared to me."

I didn't expect it to hurt, but it rips through me like fire when he turns his back on me, accusing me of not caring. Suddenly, feet are sounded running down the stairs, and an angry Jon erupts into the room. It's like looking at the Emmett I remember so clearly. Same height, Jon less one inch, same build, same blue eyes. Emmett goes sheet-white, and sways.

"Nobody," Jon says, staring his father in the eye, "ever calls my mother uncaring. She made herself unhappy to try and make you happy! She left you to give me a life. She gave up everything to make sure I had a good life, that I was happy, so that she could support me on her own. So the next time you think about calling her uncaring, you will be going through me first, because I will happily list every single goddamn sacrifice she made for me over the years. And yeah, hi, I'm your kid."

There is silence. There has been a lot of silence today. Emmett clears his throat, and shakes his head.

"Bella, could I have some more coffee, please? I think we all need to sit down together. You could tell me the stories about the pictures in that album."


	12. Chapter 12

BPOV

"That one, that one is the day he lost his first tooth. He did it by running into the table leg at Renee's. And I warned him, I warned him not to run around in the kitchen. Did he listen? He did not."

"Hurt much, did it?" Emmett asks Jon, who's watching us with interest.

"Can't remember, I was two."

"There was some crying," I remember.

_He had been running around screaming all afternoon, and I was exhausted. Suddenly, everything everyone had ever said about the terrible twos was running round my head. I took my eyes off him for literally a second, there was a bang, and then a scream like a steam engine started. He came barrelling out of the kitchen, with blood all over his chin. My screams matched his, and then Renee came in. _

"_Bella, it's OK. He just knocked out a tooth, that's all. Here, give him to me." She'd dealt with it efficiently and well, calming us both down at the same time. I'd felt so useless, not knowing what to do, unable to help. _

_Emmett laughs, listening to the stories. Jon tells him, somewhat sheepishly, about the incident with the police. _

"_And I'd've done exactly what those policemen did if I'd found you there, kid."_

I show him to the door some hours later. Jon makes himself obviously scarce, and we face each other.

"So, who knows you're back in town?"

"Harry Clearwater, you, Dad, Alice and Rose. And my mother and Phil."

"So Edward doesn't know that you're back?"

"Not yet."

"But he will." There is something ominous in those words. I know that meeting Emmett again, and the awkwardness that it imposed, will have nothing on the first time I meet Edward.

"There's no way to avoid it."

"Then I am coming with you. Every time you go out, I'm coming with you."

"Why the hell would you do that, Emmett? Why do you still have to care?"

"Would you rather I hated you?"

"It's what I deserve, and yes, I think in a way, I would. I could understand if you hated me, I could understand if you didn't care. I don't understand this."

"Nor do I, trust me. I think we could figure it out though. And there is no way I am letting you meet him alone."

When Charlie eventually gets home, it's nearly two am.

"I figured there's no way you could need this much time. How'd it go?"

"Better than I thought it would. He was - I don't know. Upset. A little angry. I can't blame him, I don't blame him."

"Did he meet Jon?"

"In a completely unplanned way, but yes, he met Jon. Took that reasonably well."

"Maybe we should invite him for dinner."

"Maybe."

"What about Edward?"

"What about him?"

"When are you going to see him?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure - I don't know how to arrange that one. Probably just leave it to chance."

"You sure?"

"It'll be fine, Dad."

So we leave it at that, and go about our business. Jon wakes up before me the next morning, and creeps into bed with me.

"You OK, honey?" I say, blinking sleep out of my eyes. "You haven't done this for years."

"I think I am. I just wanted to ask you something."

"OK. Anything."

"Do I have to call Emmett Dad?"

"No, honey, I don't think so. You'd both find that a little weird, and Emmett wouldn't expect you to."

"I don't know how I'm meant to feel. I thought I'd feel something when I met my father for the first time. Like I'd be able to tell."

"It's OK that you don't. It's been sixteen years without him, so it's OK that you're confused." He's quiet for a while. "You want pancakes for breakfast?"

"Yes, please."

Charlie has already gone to work. Jon munches on pancakes, then helps me wash up.

"Mum?"

"Hmmm?"

"Are you going to see Edward again?" I pause.

"Well, most likely, as this is a very small town. Fairly soon, word will get round that I am back, and he'll hear. It's more or less inevitable that eventually, we'll meet."

"Are you scared?"

"Yes."

"I won't let him hurt you, Mum. He will never touch you again."

Jon comes with me when I go out to do the grocery shopping later. Charlie's total lack of anything edible apart from fish still amazes me. I'm going to have to do something about a car. Alice has lent me hers, but I might have to hire one from Port Angeles or Seattle.

"OK, you hold the list, and tell me what we need."

"This is how we used to shop, do you remember? You'd give me the list, and I'd try and add things, but you always knew."

"Of course I did."

"OK, we need candy."

"Apples, then," I say, and he laughs.

"And bananas."

"You get the bananas, and I'll get the apples."

We spend a happy forty-five minutes going around the supermarket. It brings back memories, shopping with my son, who is no longer big enough to be picked up when he got tired and popped in the seat on the front of the trolley. I miss doing this together - he got to that stage all teenagers seem to get to, and started refusing to get up and come with me, instead choosing to stay in bed or go out with his mates. It is nice to have him with me again, but I know it's because he wants to defend me if Edward should pop up. It's still nice to have him. He even helps me pack the shopping and load the car.

"OK, you jump in the car, and hold onto the eggs, and I will take the trolley back."

I push it into the holding point, drop my keys and succeed in dropping my wallet when I pick them up. "Still as clumsy as ever, I see." That voice makes my blood run cold, and it matches the ice in his green eyes when I get to my feet and look up. So it has happened, and Edward and I are face to face.


	13. Chapter 13

BPOV

I can't see Jon from here. I feel a familiar, white-hot dart of fear. He hasn't moved. He's just staring at me. I clench my hands to stop them shaking.

"Bella Swan. What's it been, sixteen years?"

"Almost seventeen. I have to leave now, and I would appreciate you stepping out of my way."

"Oh, I don't think so, Bella." He blocks my way, takes my arm to stop me. I sit hard on the rising panic. He will not do this to me, I am a grown woman, with a child of my own, and I will not let him intimidate me.

"Let go of my arm, Edward. An awful lot has changed in the last seventeen years, and I am not going to make the mistake I made then."

"Mistake? Oh, Bella, your mistake was leaving me."

"Correction, Edward, my mistake was having anything to do with you in the first place. Do you understand now? I don't love you, I never loved you, and you will let me go immediately! I am not the girl I was, and I am not afraid of you."

"You tell him," says a cool voice. "You were taking a while, I thought I'd come and make sure you were OK."

"I'm just fine, and I will be even better when this man lets go, which he will be doing." I remove his hand from my arm and walk past him.

"Bella, you will pay. Nobody leaves me."

Jon manages to get me back into the car, but I know I can't drive it. My hands are shaking - hell, my entire self is trembling, and my heart feels like it's going to explode.

"Mum, are you OK? Shall I call Gramps? Mum?" He gets back out of the car, pulling my cell phone out of my bag. "Gramps? It's Jon. You need to come to the grocery store, we're in the parking lot. Mum - Mum had a shock, she won't talk to me, or move. She's shaking, Gramps, and I'm scared."

Charlie comes right away, and Emmett comes with him. Emmett kneels down beside me.

"Bella, honey, what happened?" I can't tell him. I clasp my hands in my lap, squeeze tight, fighting to stop myself ripping down the middle. I can hear everything, see everything, but I can't speak.

"Jon, what happened?"

"We'd finished up shopping, and she took the trolley back. I was waiting in the car. She took a while to come back, and at first I thought she'd just met a friend. But then I decided I was going to go find her, and this guy had her in a corner."

"A guy?" Emmett demands, shooting to his feet. "What guy?"

"I don't know. He had sort of coppery-bronze hair, green eyes, quite tall -"

"Edward," Emmett hisses.

"That was Edward? Goddamnit, I should have kicked his ass."

"He'll be long gone, kid, and you weren't to know."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, why would seeing Edward again get her into this state?" Charlie demands, coaxing me out of the car. He puts his arms around me. "What did that man do to my daughter?"

"Charlie, I can't tell you that. That's for Bella."

"I want to go home. Daddy, take me home."

They get me back, and Charlie sits down on the sofa with me. Emmett makes me coffee, but Jon pours me a very stiff whiskey. It makes me choke, but I'm fully back now. I take the coffee from Emmett and drink that too.

"Bella, honey, I think you haven't told me everything about your relationship with Edward."

"I know. I haven't, but you need to promise that you won't do anything stupid, and let me talk without interruption."

"I can promise the second part. The first bit? No way." Emmett and Jon are standing by, Jon holding onto the bottle of whiskey and the glass.

"OK. My relationship with Edward was - unhealthy. Everyone knows that he has a temper. Nobody knew that behind closed doors, that temper was vicious. That temper made him use his fists on me. If you did an x-ray of me now - I figure you'd see healed breaks on my all my ribs, my nose, my fingers, god knows what else. The bruises - I'm not that clumsy. All the times I thought that the beating I was getting would be my last, that he'd kill me for sure. And he forced himself onto me, every time. Sure, he was nice at first, playing his part. But as soon as I moved in - I can still feel his fists. Jesus Christ, I thought today - I thought he'd hit him. I could see it in his eyes. He used to have that look in his eyes just before a punch landed. I left because I had to, because he hadn't fucked me in months, because I knew that he would know that the child I carried was not his child." There is a beat of icy silence. Charlie goes from red to purple, to sheet pale and back to purple. For one second, I honestly think he's having a heart attack. "Dad? Are you OK?"

"Jon, would you pour me a decent measure of that whiskey?" Jon pours him a good neat slug, and he throws it back in one. He gets very slowly to his feet, and turns to Emmett. "Did you know what that bastard was doing to my daughter?"

"Yes."

"And you didn't think you should tell me?"

"It wasn't for me to say."

"You should have!"

"Dad, I told him not to. I made him promise."

"Bella, why the hell didn't you say something?"

"Come on, Dad. The man who beat the living hell out of me every day - how do you think he would have reacted if I'd said anything?"

"I am going to kill him."

"And what, exactly, will that do? I need you now, Dad, I don't need you locked up for murder."

"Chief, we have all considered it. I beat him bloody years ago, and trust me, I could cheerfully put a bullet in him, and lose no sleep."

"He isn't going to get away with this."

"No, I expect not."

"Important question - does he know who you are?" Emmett asks Jon.

"No, I don't think so. When I went to look for Mum, I didn't call her Mum."

"He'll work it out, he isn't stupid," I say, passing a hand over my eyes. "You don't go anywhere alone from now on."

"Mum, I can take him if he tries anything -"

"Jonathon Xavier Swan, you will do no such thing. You don't go beyond the frigging front yard without someone being with you," I say, firmly.

"You think he'd even try?"

"For God's sake, if he can beat a woman he can beat a kid. No offence, Jon, but to us, you are a kid, and that's all Edward will see you as. Bella's right, you're going to be with someone all the time."

"Uh, people, if I'm going to be imprisoned in the house, I may as well be back in Arizona."

"That is the way it is. And Bella, same for you."

CharliePOV

I can literally feel my blood boiling. I thought I was going to have a heart attack when my baby girl sat there and told me what had happened to her. I didn't see it, why the hell didn't I see it? In the small hours of the morning, I give up on sleep. I go and stand in the doorway of her room, and watch her sleep. She sleeps the same as she did when she was younger. I'm getting older, and so is she. I can't tuck her into a crib, and tell her the monsters aren't in the closet. I can't pick her up and cuddle her hurts away. I almost reach out to her, almost pick her up in my arms. Instead, I pull the blanket over her fully, make sure she's tucked in. She shifts but doesn't wake. I check on Jon next, who sleeps curled up in a ball and I think he might be sucking his thumb. He grew up quick. Finally, I go out into the garden. It's a clear, cold night. Nothing is moving, and apart from a dog barking somewhere in the distance, it's silent. The stars are out.

I should put a bullet in his head. I should go to his house now, and put a bullet in his head.

No, too quick. I should strangle him. Watch the light leave his eyes.

Still too good. Maybe I should let him bleed to death.

I guess something finally snapped. I've never actually wanted to commit outright murder before. I think I should feel bad that I don't even feel bad about this desire. Huh. I know, that like Emmett, I could kill him and not even lose sleep over it. I'd probably laugh in his face as I did it. I wonder if I can beat him bloody, then leave him at the side of the road like road-kill. Probably get away with it.

When dawn breaks, I get ready for work. I peek in at Bella and Jon again, but they're both still asleep.

Emmett looks as bad as I feel when I get in.

"Didn't sleep?" he asks me.

"Not a wink, stood in the yard contemplating the many ways I could murder him."

"Spent a long time doing that these past years. We should compare notes. And make his life absolute hell. Ticket him for everything."

"The cop in me says no, the father in me says hell yeah. But we do have work to do today, so lets try and save the sketches for later." He looks down at his desk. He's doodled Edward being hacked to pieces.

"Feels good, Chief."

"I'll bet. Emmett, can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"You're willing to fight for my daughter, despite everything. I was wondering why."

"I don't know. Part of me is furious. The bigger, less sensible part can't even get his head round it all yet, but knows he still cares." He looks up at me. "Your daughter is one hell of a woman, Chief."

"Damn right."

"Chief?" A younger cop comes up to us both. "Chief, call from Jessica Newton - she's had someone vandalise her car, apparently. Wants someone to go round and have a look."

"I'll take it. Sergeant McCarty - care to join me?" We're just at the door when the cop calls me back.

"Chief, is it true that Bella's back in town?" We exchange glances. Bound to come out sooner or later, I guess.

"It's true. Gossip already on the go, I see."

Something tells me that the next few weeks aren't going to be the easiest ride ever. Poor Bella's going to have an awful lot of gossip to deal with. Only a matter of time before people work out that Jon is her son, and only a matter of time after that before people realise how much he looks like Emmett. I'll call her after we see Jessica. Make sure she's all prepared, and can tell Jon. He's a good kid, a really good kid. He'll look after his mother - something I'll be asking him to do when she isn't listening.

We drive past Edward walking down the street.

"It'd be bad to run him over, Chief."

"No it wouldn't."

"Well, no, but we still can't do it."

"I know. Come on then, lets go deal with Mrs Newton's vandalised car." There's precious little wrong with her car, just a couple of key marks. What she really wants to do is talk about Bella's sudden reappearance. Jess Newton has the reputation as the town gossip - and she knows that Bella has returned with a teenage son in tow, who oddly enough, looks like Emmett. Both of us refuse to talk about it with her, and Emmett indicates that he certainly doesn't want to discuss it. I make him drive the car, and phone Bella.

"Bella, it's Dad. I've just come from a call-in from Jess Newton - and she both knows you're back in town, and that Jon looks and awful lot like Emmett. People are going to start talking, Bella."

"I thought she'd notice. Jess Stanley was the biggest gossip in high school, and I guess she's taken it into marriage and adulthood. I'll let Jon know, and call Alice and Rose over. They're both good at repelling gossip. Is Emmett OK?"

"Bella wants to know how you are," I say to him.

"Not great, and been better."

"He said not great and been better."

"Tell him I'm sorry, Dad."

"I will. Is Jon up?"

"Not yet, the lazy object. I don't suppose you could enquire around about a job for me? Temporary thing, secretarial maybe, and something for Jon? Shop work. Give him something to do, give me something to do, and teach him that I am not his personal bank."

"I happen to know that Harry Clearwater is looking for an assistant in that New-Age souvenir shop of his, down on the reservation. I'll speak to him. For you, I think the school receptionist is about to go off on maternity leave - you remember Lauren Mallory? She's going to have a baby. Why don't you do the rounds now, ask at both?"

"I will do that. And tell Emmett not to worry - Alice can come with us."

"Sure thing, Bella. I'll see you when I get home. Shall I bring home something, or will you cook?"

"I'll cook. I thought lasagne.

"Sounds good, Bella. Take care."

"I will, Dad. You too."

I know it's selfish, but part of me hopes she and Jon will stay here permanently. It'll be hard for her - but I want her to stay with me, where I can protect her. I want time with my girl, with retirement approaching. I want to see her as much as I want. I don't begrudge the time Renee has had with her, but now I need years to see her when I want. I want her here, to keep me company in my old age, and I want my chance to watch Jon do what's left of his growing up.

I love her to bits, although I don't say it. Maybe I should. But neither of us are too great at expressing emotion. I've got three months to persuade her to stay here. And I'm going to give a damn good go.


	14. Chapter 14

BPOV

Jon get's the job with Harry Clearwater, three days a week. He bitches about the early starts, but he seems to be enjoying relative independence. I'm interviewed for the post of school secretary by a smirking man who has clearly heard the rumours, and has obviously already formed his opinion of me.

"So, Ms Swan," he says, at the end of the interview, his smirk growing, "what exactly makes you think that you are suited to this post?"

"I can cope under pressure, and I enjoy working with teenagers. I think that a post in a high school would be ideal for me."

"Yes, Ms Swan. I see you are computer literate - you did extremely well in your computing test."

"I have been working as a secretary for sixteen years. All sixteen have involved working with the most modern computer packages available. I can adapt to new systems very well."

"Yes, Ms Swan, your references do convey that." I'm starting to get very irritated. The continual use of the Ms when I've told him several times to call me Miss Swan is plainly an attempt to antagonise me. I wonder if he's a friend of Edward's. "Very well, Ms Swan, one final question."

"What is it?"

"Do you feel that you can cope? I mean, supporting a teenage son, with no father on the scene - it must be difficult. Unless, of course, the father is on the scene -"

"Sir, may I cordially suggest that you take this job and my application and shove them both up your bigoted rear end?" I say, smiling as sweetly as I can. "I came here to apply for a job, to gain employment so that I may continue to raise my teenage son as I have managed to do so for the last sixteen years. And, might I add, he's turned out pretty well, even without his father on the scene. Good day." I gather my things and swan out of there. I make enquiries with one of the office girls, and she informs me about everything I need to know. I write to the Head of the Governing board that same day, suggesting he replace his assistant with someone more suited and less prejudiced against working single mothers. I get a phone call from the man two days later, asking me to come back down to the school.

He introduces himself as Mr Franks. I don't recognise him.

"Miss Swan, thank you very much for coming. I would like to apologise profusely for the behaviour of my deputy - I can assure you that he has been sternly disciplined - and also for not conducting your interview myself. I normally do, but I'm afraid I had an attack of rheumatism. I'm not quite as young as I was."

"That's fine, Mr Franks, I understand completely."

"About my deputy - I'm afraid I cannot make any excuse for him, except that he seems to suffer very badly from being a bigoted snob. I believe you used those words to him at one point?"

"I did."

"Good, somebody needed to. The job is yours, Miss Swan, and you can come in this Friday? Just to familiarise yourself with the system?"

"Certainly. Sir, I appreciate that this job is really only for a few weeks, as Forks High breaks up after Arizona State -"

"You'll be paid the full months wages, if that's what you're concerned with -"

"Oh, no Sir. I didn't mean that, I meant - well Sir, I won't lie to you, I might stay here. Set up home and all that." He understands immediately.

"Miss Swan, if you decide to stay here, the job won't be going anywhere. God knows, we need another secretary. And besides, even if Ms Mallory does decide to return, we could always use another secretary."

"Thank you, Sir. I'm grateful." He shakes my hand warmly, requests that I email him from time to time, to let him know how I'm getting on. I agree, smiling at him. I know he's gone above and beyond today. God knows he's probably got better things to do. I walk crash into a strange man as I'm approaching main exit. He drops a pile of books all over the floor. "My God, I am so sorry. Here, let me help you grab those."

"Much my fault as yours. Oh, thanks, here, let me take them off you -"

"Do you want me to help you carry them? I'm in no hurry - I was just here getting myself the school secretary job."

"Lifesaver." He smiles at me, and there's something familiar about that smile. I follow him to his classroom, and he puts the pile down his desk. I follow his example, stacking mine next to his. "Thanks for the hand. I always get left holding the buck. Oh, I'm Jasper, by the way." Something familiar about that name, too. Do I know this guy from somewhere?

"Bella."

"Huh, funny. Something familiar about that name." I laugh. I can't help it.

"Sorry, it's just I was thinking the same thing about you. We haven't met, have we?"

"No, I don't think so, but I still feel like I know you from somewhere. And I'm sorry if that sounds like a crap pick-up line, I can promise that I'm not trying to pick you up." he puts his head on one side slightly, looking at me quizzically. "Maybe it's just coincidence."

"Yeah, maybe," I start saying, but then the door opens. Emmett walks in larger than life as usual, with a smile that falters slightly when he sees me.

"Hey, bro," Jasper says easily, seemingly not noticing the falter. "Nearly ready. Hey, this is Bella, she helped me -"

"I know who she is, Jasper. Kick your brain into gear, God knows there's enough of it."

"Jesus," I say. "I knew I recognised your name. You're Jasper, Emmett's brother."

"So you two know each other?" Jasper says, bemused. Suddenly, his face falls, and his mouth drops open.

"Holy hell, you're _that _Bella!" Emmett nods.

"Yeah, and I don't fancy discussing it here. Come for that drink I owe you, and I'll explain it. Bella, you can -"

"No, I can't. I have to go pick up Jon. Bye Emmett, bye Jasper." I disappear too fast for either of them to answer me.

EPOV

He looks at me as she disappears out the door like a frightened fawn. I turn to go after her, but he shoots out a hand and hangs on. I could shake him off if I wanted.

"Don't, Emmett. She couldn't have made it any more obvious."

"I know."

"Shall we go back to my place for that drink?" he asks, leading me outside. She's long gone.

He sits me down, brings in coffee and beer. I take the coffee, he takes the beer, and then he looks at me pointedly.

"So, that's the girl who broke your heart, who you've never forgotten. Must have been somebody pretty damn special."

"She is."

"Gonna tell me about it?"

"You know it all, I'm aware that the whole damn town is talking of it."

"Maybe, but I haven't heard it all from you yet."

"That's Bella Swan, used to date Edward, had a fling with me when we were both eighteen, vanished off to Phoenix without explanation, broke my bloody heart, and now she's back in town. With her sixteen year old son."

"Who is also your son."

"Yep."

"Damn, Mum and Dad are going to want a word with you."

"Piss off, Jasper, I'm working on it."

"No, you aren't. I know because Mum phoned and said she hadn't heard from you in a while, but had heard a disturbing rumour from Annie in the grocery store. You, brother dearest, are going to have to explain yourself. And you might want to re-think your sobriety vow, or whatever the hell it is you took when she left. Want to get them over here now?" I jerk, and glare at him.

"What, now? And say what? Hey Mum, hey Dad, I have a kid. You're grandparents, want to meet him?"

"No, not quite like that. But they just want to hear it from you, Emmett. Mum's upset, you know. And I can't blame her. I can't say hearing the latest gossip from my students is ideal, especially not when it involves my brother."

"I meant to tell them. I wanted to, the second I found out myself. But I needed to sort myself out. I needed to get my head on straight. I didn't know news would travel so quick. And there are gaps in the story, gaps that aren't mine to fill. I can't tell them everything, and they couldn't understand. Everyone thinks Bella left because she was a teenage mum, somebody who wasn't worth anything. I know that she wasn't, and I can't even tell them why. So I have to listen, I have to listen while most of this town bitches about her, and says bad things and brings her down, when I fucking know that she is worth twice as much as them. And I can't do anything to stop them, because every time I even try, I get whispered about as I walk away. 'That's the father', they say, and they all shake their heads and comment on how she ran away. Some of them even think I made her leave. And there is nothing I can say without betraying her trust."

"Jeez, Emmett, you can't say anything, that's true. But you can show them that you're on her side, and that she's a good person. Stick by her, no matter what they say. All the time, every day. Well, when you aren't working to bust Edward's ass. Don't even deny it, bro, I know you. You took that job because you're hoping that one day you'll be able to arrest Edward. And I don't even know why, but I know it's because he must have done something to Bella."

"You always were the clever one," I say, sarcastically. "How'd you manage to figure it?"

"Expression on your face. Seriously, Emmett - what is with the whole no alcohol thing?"

"It's for her. Not going to tell you what though."

"Of course not. So, you want to call the parents, or shall I?" He holds out the phone, eyebrow raised.

"You aren't going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope."

"You call them." I take one very deep breath, and prepare to explain to my parents, to the best of my explanatory powers, exactly why I haven't yet made the time to mention to them that I have a teenage son by the girl I had an affair with when we were both eighteen.

I am screwed.


	15. Chapter 15

EmmettPOV

It's the single most awkward conversation I've ever had.

"Why didn't you tell us, son?"

"I only found out myself a few weeks ago."

"We didn't mean the illegitimate son. We meant the affair."

"Jesus, Dad, I was eighteen years old. I was not gonna announce to you that I was sleeping with the girl over the road who was also in a relationship at the time. Then she left and it didn't matter. Now she's back, I have a son, and I have to do the right thing by them. You've heard what this town says about her, and I'm not going to stand for that."

"You didn't even feel like you could tell us what was wrong?"

"What would you have said, Dad?"

"Well, I -" he trails off.

"Exactly. You would have read me a lecture about responsibility and about how there would be plenty more fish in the sea. There was nothing to bloody well say, and now there's still nothing. I'm sticking by her, and I'm sticking by my kid."

"Can you at least tell us what happened with Edward? Because, son, you don't beat a man bloody for no reason. He must have done something to Bella."

"You can't tell anyone. I shouldn't tell you. But I can't keep this to myself anymore. He beat her. Every single day, that fucking scumbag beat her black and blue, kept her terrified of him, told her he'd kill her if she left. She left because he'd know the kid wasn't his. She left to save her life, to save the life of her child, and to try and let me have a life of my own."

"My goodness, that poor, poor girl. How did we not know?"

"Mum, we can't blame ourselves. Nobody knew, except Charlie and he had his reasons, and those reasons were because his daughter begged him to do what she honestly believed to be the right thing and because he wanted to keep her safe from the world she fled from, when he didn't even know himself. Now I have to go, I have an extra shift."

JPOV

I'm tidying up in the kitchen when the doorbell rings. Charlie answers it, and Mum comes in, and smiles at me.

"Honey, I would have done this."

"I needed something to do with my hands. I keep thinking about Edward. And Emmett. I want to go off to beat the living shit out of that man for what he did for you, but I don't want to make Emmett have to read me my rights when I know he would not only help me but cheerfully wave me on my way."

"There's no call for that language, young man."

"Bella, tell your father to let me in!" A voice I don't know cracks like a whip through the air. Mum's head jerks, her head snaps towards the door and the fear lights on her face. I know who it is now. Before she can do anything, before she can stop me, I sprint from the room. I throw my full weight on the bronze haired man on the stoop, and we go to the ground together. I'm throwing punches, feeling the crunch of bone as I drive my fists into his face. When I stop, I make sure he's listening.

"You fucking come near my mother again, Masen, and I swear to fucking god, I will hand you your balls and shove them down your throat. You stay away from my family, you stay away from her. I know enough people to make sure that if I happened to rip you to shreds, I will walk away from it scot-free while they hide the pieces. Your daddy wouldn't like to know that his precious son is a violent, sadistic scumbag. He'd probably help me hide the little pieces. You hear what I'm saying?"

"Jon, get off him," Mum's voice finally breaks through the ringing in my ears. "You do it now, Jon, you do what I tell you to do." I get off him, and deliver a well aimed kick to his equipment. He cringes into it. "Get into that house, young man, and you stay in there. And _you,_" she spits at Edward. "You get the hell of this lawn, you get the hell of this property and you never come back. You stay away from me. I'm going to the police. You will never come near me again. And you will never frighten me again. I will not let you rule my life. I will not let you do what you did sixteen years ago, I will not let you touch me again. I'm not yours now, Edward, I've moved on, I've left you behind. Say goodbye, Edward, because I swear to God, if I ever see you again, it will be the day I face you in court and watch you go crashing down for everything you ever did to me."

Up until right then, I loved my mother with everything I had me. But watching her stand over him, telling him that she was never going to be afraid again, I saw her as an angel. She is my mother, and no matter how much trouble I get into now, I will look at her differently from today.

She comes up to my room later in the day, and sits on my bed.

"So, you want to explain this afternoon to me."

"It was the look on your face. I wasn't going to let you be afraid of him anymore. He needed to know what it was like to be afraid."

"You don't know what he's like, Jon. You caught him by surprise and got lucky today. I know what he's capable of. He could have killed you. Never take a risk like that again. You won't get so lucky again."

"You're not mad?"

"I should be. I should be furious that you think using your fists is the way to get your way, but I was more frightened for you. Regardless of what people have done, beating the daylights out of them is not the way to make amends. I never want to see you act like that again."

"Yes, Mum. I'm sorry, I just got so furious."

"I know. But your temper will never bring you anything good. I suffered at the hands of temper for too long, I won't watch you lose it every time provocation comes your way. You need to learn self-control. I'm not saying anything else about it. It's over, it's done, and we can't change it."

"Mum, can I ask something?"

"Of course."

"Do you remember I hit that kid at pre-school, when he took my train? You made me apologise."

"I'm not going to even ask you to apologise." She runs her hand over my hair. "Thank you, honey."

"What for?"

"For standing up for me, even if you went about it wrong. Come on down for dinner now."

Gramps takes me aside after dinner, when Mum's gone off upstairs.

"Jon, I know your mother doesn't approve of what you did. And as an officer of the law, I'm obliged to agree with her, In fact, I should have arrested you for common assault. But you did good, kid, even if I never want to see you do anything of the kind ever again. However, I'm going to warn you that he'll most likely press charges. I will do everything I can to keep you out of court, and hopefully keep it off your record. You are not to fight me."

"Gramps, that could destroy your career. I'm not going to ask you to lie, cover or pull strings for me, and you won't do it. I'll face the consequences of what I've done, and gladly. I will not apologise for it, and I don't expect to be let off the hook. If he presses charges, we'll deal with it."

Emmett falls into the middle of it all, and comes straight up to me as soon as Charlie opens the door.

"Edward's been at the station. He wants to file charges for assault against you. You did one heck of a job on him. They're coming for you now, they'll arrest you."

"Oh, great."

"I'm sorry, Mum."

"Don't be, baby, don't be. He'll need me there, right, as his appropriate adult?"

"Yes. Then I want to file some charges of my own. I want to file charges against him for abuse. What do I need to say at the station?"

"I'll come with you."

"We both will. And if we leave now, we can beat the guys back, and we can get our story in."

BPOV

My heart is thumping wildly when we get to the station. Edward and Edward senior are both present. I go up to the desk sergeant, and lean over towards him.

"I wish to lay charges against Edward Masen, Junior. I want to file charges of domestic violence. That man beat me mercilessly sixteen years ago, and I've got the scars and the healed bones to prove it. I have witnesses, in the form of Emmett Cullen. He heard an incident on the night of September 12th 1995, when my then partner Edward was beating me. I want to file charges."


	16. Chapter 16

BPOV

For several seconds, the only sound in the room is the thumping of my own heart.

"Bella, say that this isn't true." It isn't the voice I expected to hear first. I face Edward's father, and take a deep breath.

"If I could say it was not, then I would. But I don't just have myself to think of now, there's my son too. You know what lengths parents will go to, for their child. But my charges stand, and I will tell the truth at whatever cost."

"You lying bitch. Pretty clever, I have to admit - coming up with this shit to justify what your psycho son did to me." Before anyone else can say anything, I take a step forward, deliberately putting myself in his path, facing him without a quake for the first time since we met.

"I'm quite impressed with what he did to you, Edward. And I can assure you, Jon will answer for what he did, as I disapprove of any violence and I will not try and defend his action, beyond that you deserved it. My son will pay his dues - but so help me, Edward, you will pay yours. If I have to fight until the very end, you will pay for every time you hit me, and touched me against my will."

"Edward, is this true?" Masen senior faces his son, looking between him and me with agony in his eyes.

"You aren't taking this bitch seriously?"

"Edward, is it true?" The desk sergeant breaks us up.

"Miss Swan, we'll take you through to interview right away. Can anyone act as appropriate adult for you son for his interview?"

"Yes, I - Dad, will you?"

"Sure."

"I'll get someone down to do your interview, Jon. Mr Masen, you wait here."

"For how long?"

"As long as it takes. There has been a very serious allegation made against you. You'll be interviewed."

"Am under arrest?" Edward demands.

"Not at this precise moment in time. If you chose to leave, we can't stop you. However, we will need to speak to you soon."

I'm taken off into a room in the station, I write pages worth of statements describing every incident, and agree to a police medical examination.

"We'll send you to the hospital for x-rays. We may have enough evidence to get a conviction for grievous bodily harm, but I'm afraid that it will be impossible to prove that he raped you. It's been too long."

"I understand. What will happen now?"

"Once the x-rays are back, we'll decide if we have enough evidence to arrest and charge him. If we do, he'll be questioned and then we'll decide on a court date. You'll be prepared to give evidence?"

"Yes, if it comes to a court hearing."

"You understand that it might not."

"Yes, I understand. But either way - this will go public. He'll pay, whatever happens. Do you think they'll be finished with my son?"

"Perhaps."

"What will happen to him?"

"He'll probably be charged."

"Prison?"

"I don't know, it depends. We'd need witness statements to go to court, and evidence and so on. Mr Masen would also need to press charges. We'll have to see."

"Jesus."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. If this is how he'll learn that using your fists is wrong, then this is how he'll learn."

"I'll take you back to the reception. We'll see if your son is out yet." He is out, looking grumpy but worried. Edward seems to have gone.

"Mum, what's happening?"

"I have to get some x-rays at the hospital, they're making me an appointment now. What did they say about you?"

"They reckon I'll be charged."

"Well, we'll deal with it if it happens."

"I'm sorry, Mum. I guess I fucked up your day."

"What have I said about that language! Look, I have to go to work tomorrow. You'll stay inside, you hear?"

"Miss Swan, I made you an appointment at the hospital, on Wednesday at four. Sergeant McCarty - will you accompany Miss Swan? You'll be on shift."

"That's fine. Is Jon free to go?"

"We aren't charging him at this present time, so yes, you can take him home. Chief, can we have a word?"

CharliePOV

I know the sergeant on today pretty well. His family's lived out here for five generations, and he was a bit of a tear-away when he was Jon's age.

"The boy's your grandson?"

"Yeah, Bella's boy."

"I remember your Bella when she was with Edward, and I remember her when she wasn't with Edward. And she changed, Chief, I mean she changed a lot."

"People do change."

"Yeah, but Chief, I was at high school with her. She went from wanting to go to college to dropping out before graduation, on his say-so. She stopped seeing people, she dressed fucking weird, totally different. I believe her."

"So do I, but what we believe will never hold up in a court of law. We need hard evidence to send him down."

"If the x-rays show the broken bones, we can determine what caused them, and if they tie in with her statements, we'll get him for grievous bodily harm."

"And if not, he walks free."

"The law binds us, Chief. Every copper here would be chomping at the bit to see him sent down, but you can't uphold one law by breaking another. But we'll do everything, and I mean everything, we can to send him down."

EmmettPOV

She comes round that night. It's after midnight when I hear the ring on the doorbell. She's wearing an Arizona High sweater with jeans.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, yeah of course. What have you been doing out alone?" I ask, yanking her inside.

"Because Edward is in the pub, getting drunk. Alice told me. And I can take care of myself."

"What sort of example are you setting to Jon?"

"He's asleep. Look, Emmett, I just wanted to talk. I know better than anyone that I'm going to have serious issues with getting this to court. There'll be precious little evidence, and if he denies everything - he's got the money that I don't have to hire enough lawyers to blow me out the water."

"But you have a witness. I'll get up and testify to what I heard that night, the bruises I saw. Plus, I'll beat him into a confession if you wanted."

"Emmett, I love the fact that you offered, but seeing as I'm trying very hard to impress on Jon that beating someone up won't get you what you want, I don't really think that that would be a good idea. And it would be a really crappy example to set your son."

"I miss you." I say, abruptly.

"What?" She blinks at me, her head on one side.

"I miss us."

"So do I." she whispers, so quietly I almost miss it. "Christ, I used to lie there at night and I could feel you. I wished so hard for you to be holding you in my arms and then used to feel so guilty because I had no right to want that, and -"

"Bella, shut up." I kiss her hard, and suddenly she's wrapped round me, clamping with arms and legs. My hands are in that waterfall of hair, then racing to her sweater, ripping the zip down and shoving it off her shoulders. She's struggling with my shirt, breaking her kiss and pulling it over my head.

She's naked in my arms before I know it, and gasping my name.

"Sure?"

"Please, Emmett…"

It's mind-blowing. She's so familiar, yet so different, fighting me for control. She comes apart in my arms, and we just cling to each other, gasping for breath.

It feels so right.


	17. Chapter 17

JPOV

Emmett's here when I wake up in the morning, and something has shifted between him and my mother. They're making breakfast, and it's like watching a carefully choreographed dance. There's definitely something different. They're standing closer, unconsciously shifting together, revolving around each other as she scrambles eggs and he fries bacon in a pan. It must be his day off work. They don't even notice I've come in at first, until I open the fridge and search for orange juice. I find the carton and raise it to take a mouthful.

"Get a glass, Jon," she says, not even looking up. "Breakfast?"

"Please."

"Pour me a glass, will you kid?" Emmett asks. "And d'you like crispy bacon? Or are you like your heathen of a mother and prefer it slightly damp?"

"Crisp it up."

"Traitor."

"Shut up, Bella, the boy takes his bacon like a man." She hits him in the face with the tea towel as she whips it off his shoulder.

"Whoops, how clumsy of me. Jon, if you want toast, you take care of it." I frown at them, and finally they both look up.

"What?" Emmett says, looking puzzled. "I got something on my face?" Mum dishes up, now refusing to make eye contact.

"There's something different about you two," I declare, accepting the plate he puts in front of me. "Something's changed."

"Don't be silly, dear."

"No, there's something." I keep watching them, and now they're not just refusing to look at me, but also each other. It hits me with unpleasant force. "Oh God, you've had sex." Emmett chokes on his juice and Mum goes bright red. They may as well have said "Why yes, dear. Yes we did, it was lovely." I might throw up. "You know what? Don't even want to know." I bolt my breakfast down, hoping to escape before either of them tries to have a talk with me. Emmett snaps first.

"Jon, does it bother you that your mother and I had sex?"

"Yes and no. I really don't want to discuss this. I meant it when I said I didn't want to know."

"Emmett, the boy doesn't want to know, drop it," Mum mutters, focussing on her eggs.

"But -"

"We can discuss it with him when we've discussed it ourselves!" she half-shrieks, sounding mildly hysterical.

"I don't want you to discuss it with me! Ever! I don't want to have to think about you two having sex! You're old! You're my parents!" Emmett laughs, my mother looks mortified.

"We're not old!" she protests, now fiery red.

"You're parents. You shouldn't have sex!"

"We had sex to make you," Emmett points out. I drop my cutlery.

"That's it. I'm done. I'm not sitting here and listening to this. You can do whatever you want, but I really, really don't want to hear it!" I make good my escape, deciding that I'm spending the day hiding in my room. God.

BPOV

I round on Emmett as soon as we hear Jon's bedroom door shut.

"What the hell is the matter with you?"

"He spotted it. What did you want us to say?"

"I didn't want us to say anything until we'd worked it out."

"Well, we could hardly deny it, discuss it, and then come clean. We're not teenagers."

"No, we're not, but he still needed to know." He catches my hand in his, hangs on when I try to slide away. "Oh no you don't. You wanted to talk about it. So let's talk about it." I refuse to say anything, glaring at the tablecloth instead. "OK, I'll start this conversation. We had sex last night. Then I walked you home, and I slept here. It was good sex. And no matter how much my brain is telling me this is a really bad idea - I can't deny we've still got that spark, and neither can you."

"I'm not going to deny that we still have it," I mutter, turning my hand over in his so I can run my fingers along his palm, uncurling them to link with his. "I know we still have it. Christ - I came down those stairs to drop my bombshell on you and my stomach did little back-flips when I saw you standing there. I was blown away by the spark that was still there. But your brain is pretty smart, this probably is a bad idea."

"But it's a different sort of bad idea this time."

"Yeah. Our son's up on assault charges and I'm trying to put Edward in jail instead of trying to convince myself he'll change." I look at Emmett, read the pain in his eyes. "And we've got shit, Emmett. You and me. Lots of it, all the hurt I made you feel, all the crap I left you with."

"True. However, we're both adults now. We aren't kids any longer. We've got one, which is entirely different. I think we're mature enough to handle this."

"What is this?" I ask, running a hand through my hair.

"God, I don't know. Why don't we let time work out what this is, and in the meantime, you and I go for dinner on Friday night?"

"Are you saying we should date?"

"Yes, Bella. In fact, I am asking you to go on a date with me."

"In that case - yes. I would like to go on a date with you." He grins at me.

"What shall we tell the kid?"

"I don't think he wants to hear it."

"It's character building. Have you ever had the talk with him, by the way?"

"Obviously," I say, dryly. "When he was thirteen. It was an uncomfortable experience for us both and he knew most of it anyway."

"Thank god."

"Yeah, you're off the hook. What he didn't feel comfortable asking me, he got from Phil."

"Phil?"

"My mother's second husband." I put the plates in the dishwasher and migrate to the living room. "Whatever it is you're burning to say, Emmett, spit it out."

"Was there anyone else? For you, in Phoenix?" I sit down on the couch with a sigh.

"No. Would you really want to know if there had been?"

"Probably not. Just thought I should make sure you haven't got some handsome tanned six foot six Arizonian bodybuilder waiting on your return."

"You're insane. There is no man, six foot six or otherwise, waiting in Arizona. Nor has there ever been. Renee did talk me into one date. It wasn't bad. But it also wasn't right. What about you?"

"No. Nobody."

"My God, we are truly pathetic. 34 and this is us, sitting on a couch at nine o clock discussing how we've not gotten any since we were 18."

"That's not true. We got some last night."

"We did. So you really haven't had sex in sixteen years?"

"Really. Kind of pathetic, isn't it. Hanging on for you."

"Shit. Don't tell me that, Emmett. I feel guilty enough."

"I didn't say it to make you feel bad."

"I know. I can't - I can't talk about this now. I'm going to drive Jon to his job."

"I'll come too."

"You don't need to."

"I'm not going to let you drive round alone."

"I'll lock the doors. You don't need to come."

"If you don't want me to come -"

"I'm not saying I don't want you to. Look, I don't have time for this argument. Come if you want. Jon! Jon, I'm going to drive you to work. Hurry up." He clatters down the stairs and gets straight in the car, refusing to look at either of us. We exchange smirks, and Emmett rides shotgun after Jon hides himself in the back to avoid conversation, ramming his earphones in very pointedly. I pull into the tiny car park in front of the souvenir shop, and he nearly falls out the car in his hurry to get away. "Jon, get back here. I'll pick you up at four thirty. Wait inside until I come for you, and I mean that. Not outside, not in the carpark, not at the entrance, I mean inside."

"Wait, kid," Emmett calls. He leans across me. "I want you to take this," he instructs, handing over a can of what I recognise as pepper spray.

"Emmett, I don't know if I'm comfortable -" I start, but I'm interrupted.

"Take it, Jon," Emmett says, ignoring me entirely.

"Mum?"

"Fine. Just take it. But it isn't a toy. Only use it if you have to."

"Fine. See you later." He saunters off, and I shake my head as I reverse.

"You could have at least discussed that with me."

"You'll be carrying one too, Bella. I want you to at least have some sort of defence. Enough to give you enough time to make a run for it, make a call."

"You really think he's going to be stupid enough to try something? First and foremost, he's a politician. This already looks bad enough, or it will when the news breaks. If he tries something, he might as well sign a confession."

"First and foremost, he's a fucking scumbag. I don't know if he would, but if he does, I want you to be able to fight him off."

EdPOV

I see her car before I register it. She's behind the wheel, with him next to her. Well, don't they look nice and cosy? Neither of them look over at the diner, and I can watch them go by unobserved. I wonder how long they thought it'd take me to work it all out. Her little psycho clearly isn't my kid. Equally clearly, he's Emmett's. Little bitch cheated on me with our neighbour. Bastard touched my fucking property. Touched my girl, while I was off on some business trip. Jesus, it's like they went out of their way to make it the biggest clichéd middle finger ever. If either of them think I'm just going to let that slide, they are sadly mistaken. I know she'll be alone later. Cullen has to work, leaving dear little Bella home alone. I suppose that kid of hers is working. I don't care about him.

But she must pay the price for her betrayal.


	18. Chapter 18

BPOV

Emmett insists he doesn't need a lift to the police station. He stays for lunch, gives me an awkward peck on the cheek when I say goodbye, and I occupy myself with doing some tidying up and hunting up the mobile I've once more managed to misplace. Eventually, I end up curled on the sofa watching some rubbish on the TV, but I can't think of anything else to do. I decide I'll call Alice and Rose, to ask if they want to come over and watch a film. I phone and they accept, telling me they'll be over in about fifteen minutes. I put a bottle of wine in the fridge, hoping it'll at least be slightly chilled when it comes to cracking it out when they get here. There's a ring at the doorbell not ten minutes later.

"I don't know why you ring the bell, you could just - _Get off this property_."

"Oh, Bella, Bella, Bella. Where are your manners?" I slam the door in his face, but he catches it and throws it back. He advances on me, throwing the door shut behind him. Where's my goddamn bag? Where the fuck did I put it, and can I get to it? "Didn't even invite me in."

"Get the fuck out of this house."

"Don't be rude, woman."

"I have a name. You think I'm afraid of you?"

"I know you're afraid of me, Bella. I can see it in your eyes."

"Get out of this house. Now."

"Or you'll do what?" He reaches out, and I carry on retreating.

"Alice will be here soon. Probably not a good idea to stay if you still want to be able to use your dick after today."

"I don't like your tone."

"I don't care. I'm not that girl any more Edward. I'm not going to beg you not to hurt me, I'm not going to cower in fear if you raise your hand to me, and I will not constantly be afraid to speak my mind. Get out."

"No, no I don't think I will." Oh God, Alice, where are you? Why did you pick today to be late? "I think you owe me an explanation."

"I owe you nothing."

"Yes you do, because you've magically reappeared after nearly seventeen years with a son who looks remarkably like the man who used to be our neighbour when we had our little love nest." I've gone back as far as possible. I'm leaning against the wall opposite the still open front door. All she needs to do is walk in and she'd see us, she could get him away, call the authorities - something, anything. I can see my bag now, it's on the end of the coffee table. Could I make it, if I shoved him away now? Perhaps I could. If I hurt him first - "How many others were there, you fucking whore?"

"It was only him. And yes, I did have sex with him." His lip curls, and there is now a very familiar light in his eyes.

EPOV

That fucking whore, standing there barely even blinking, telling me she had the nerve to fuck another man while she was my goddamn _property_. She might stand there saying she isn't afraid, but all it means is that she'll take longer to break. I'm going to enjoy this. The satisfaction of that first punch connecting with her stomach is almost orgasmic. She curls into it just as always, the gasp of air wheezing from her lungs is different, however. She used to cry. I seize her by the hair, slam her head back onto the wall. After that, it's a red haze of rage, and I don't stop until she falls to the floor. Her blood is soaking into her father's cream carpet. She isn't moving and I don't think she's conscious. Perfect. I pick her up, and she flops like a rag doll, but she gasps with pain. I carry her out, shove her into the back seat of my car and drive out of town. She won't be much trouble. I drive out of town, heading for Seattle. I wish I could be there to see the look on Emmett's face when he finds her blood staining the carpet. She'll pay for every blow her psycho son landed on me. Emmett will pay with his pain at knowing I've got his precious whore at my fucking mercy. She better not get too much blood on my car seats.

APOV

We're running late, thanks to Rose fussing about whether or not we should take wine.

"Bella's front door's open."

"What?" I ask, focussing on parking the car.

"Bella's front door. It's wide open." I look up, and see that it is indeed so. I don't even bother to lock the car, just leap out and run. There's some god-awful chill in my stomach. Something's wrong, something's horribly wrong, I can feel it. Something's happened.

"Bella? Bella!" I call, rushing inside. I stop short halfway down the hallway, my eyes glued to the carpet outside the cupboard under the stairs. There's a dark, dark stain marking Charlie's cream carpet, and I kneel beside it.

"Is that - is that blood?"

"Check upstairs." She rushes off, and I can hear her running from room to room.

"She isn't here," she calls, running back down. I yank out my mobile, stopping Rosie from touching the carpet or door. I find Charlie's phone number, dial it with shaking hands.

"Alice? I'm at work, is this -"

"Charlie, we're at your place. Bella called, said we could come over for a film. We got here, and your front door was wide open and - and there's - Charlie, there's blood here, and Bella isn't." There's a long, horrific, stretching silence.

"She definitely isn't there."

"No, we've looked. And we haven't touched anything."

"Go out of the house, wait for me, there's a team coming."

"Charlie, tell Emmett."

"I will."

By the time the police arrive, Rose has managed to convince both of us that Bella's been life-threateningly hurt. We both know who by. Charlie and Emmett are in the first car, and they both sprint past us to the house. Emmett is pale and Charlie looks sick to his stomach when they return.

"Someone needs to pick Jon up. Now."

"I'll go," Rose offers, getting to her feet. She leaves, and Charlie drops down beside me. The police are taking prints now, and none of us are allowed in there - this case is too close to Charlie and Emmett and I'm not a cop.

"How much blood was that, Charlie? Is it enough to be life threatening?"

"No, but she'll be badly hurt. God, we all know who fucking did this and there's not a damn thing we can do," he growls.

"People going to his place now, but there's no way he'd be stupid enough to take her there."

"So while we find him, that bastard is hurting her."

"Worse. Unless we can prove he's involved, we can't even start looking."

"Fuck the goddamn law!" I scream, leaping to my feet and glaring at Charlie. "Fuck it! We know who has her, we know what he's going to be doing to her, why the fuck can't we go after him, now? You could get a list of his properties."

"Alice, for God's sake! Don't you think I'd love to? But if we do, he will not go away. His lawyers will say it was unfair harassment and we didn't have sufficient evidence. We wouldn't get him for anything."

"He's got my girl," Emmett snarls, startling us both. "He's got my girl and he's going to be hurting her. And I'm expected to stand here and uphold the goddamn law because I am an officer of it." I've never felt so useless, and maybe it shows on my face, because Emmett drops down next to me and takes me by the hand. "We're going to get him, Aly. But to do that, we've got to play by every single rule. When it comes to a court case, our actions must show up, they must be above reproach, or we lose and he either walks or gets an insult of a sentence. But if we can do this right, when we get to court, his lawyers won't be able to use our actions against us, and he will go away." Rose arrives with Jon just then. She must have driven hell for leather to get him here so fast. He explodes out of that car, and he's pretty obviously aiming for the house. Emmett stops him, an has to physically restrain him from going in there.

"Jon, you don't want to go in there. You can't go in there anyway, but you don't want to go in there. Your mother's been hurt."

"Is she in there?"

"No, she isn't."

"Then we should go to the hospital."

"She's not at the hospital, Jon."

"But you said she's been hurt."

"We don't exactly know where she is." Jon's eyes darken, and his fists clench. Jon's built for sixteen and I get the impression he could do some serious damage.

"Edward. Goddamn, I should have hit him harder."

"What?" I ask, confused.

"Jon took the law into his own hands yesterday and beat him on the lawn," Charlie sounds, sounding approving.

"Good for you, kid," I say, nodding at him.

"I should have really given that fucker something to complain about, I should have hospitalised the arsehole. I should have strangled him with my bare hands."

"Jon, your mother wouldn't want you talking like that, and as a cop, I have to warn you that if any of these guys hear you say that, they'd be obliged to caution you. Just because Bella isn't here, doesn't mean you have free license to say that," Emmett says, wearily. "We're going to find him, but you need to trust us to do the right thing. You flying off the handle and displaying your temper - and frankly, I have no idea where you've got it from - isn't going to help."

"So all we do is sit here and wait while Edward is kicking the shit out of my mother?"

"We don't know he is -" Rose starts.

"For fucks sake, yes we do."

"OK, OK, we do. But that's slander, and like Charlie says, there are an awful lot of cops around who'd be obliged to do something."

"I can't just sit here," Jon explodes.

"You think any of us are happy about this?" Emmett snarls. My God, but they're so alike it's almost spooky. Charlie has said precious little, and is still sitting on the kerb beside me, his head in his hands. I slip and arm around him and rest my head on his shoulder.

There's nothing we can do. And we all know exactly the same thing - that while there's nothing we can do, Edward is hurting our Bella.


	19. Chapter 19

EPOV

She must fully lose consciousness on the drive over. I know when I drag her out of the car and carry her up the steps there is no movement or noise of pain. Either that or she's deliberately restraining herself. Probably got some bullshit idea about not giving me the satisfaction. She hasn't figured out yet that this is about revenge. I want_ them_ to suffer. The amount of noise she makes or doesn't make doesn't make a blind bit of difference. It'll be their pain when they find her broken and bleeding that will satisfy me. I take her to the basement, and either the abrupt drop onto concrete rouses her, or motivates her into action, because she groans, trying to push herself upright. I circle round her, debating. Unlike last time, this is all about making it obvious. But it'd be a real shame to bash that pretty face up too much. I yank her head back, exposing it to the limited light in the basement. Apart from a cut over her eyebrow, she's fairly undamaged about the face so far.

"Do you know what I'm going to do to you?"

"Does it matter?" I shove her away from me, and she falls sprawling. Satisfied that she's really too hurt to make any sort of run for it, I turn my back on her, drag a chair over, sit on it calmly. She's about a foot away from me, managing to sit, glaring defiantly, head well up. I wonder how much damage I've already done.

"I wonder how long it'd take to break you. I'm going to enjoy finding out."

"You're a sick bastard, Masen. You might as well have just confessed."

"You're on the wrong track, whore. You think this about taking back what's mine - in this case, you. But it isn't. This is all about making your little boy suffer while he watches you bleed, knowing that he brought it on you. This is about teaching your precious Emmett that he can't take away was is mine and get away with it without consequence."

"I'm not your property, Masen." Her lip curves in a sneer. "I stopped being yours the moment I had sex with Emmett." Her sneer deepens. "And he was so, so much better than you." White-hot rage bubbles in my throat, roars in my ears, but it doesn't drown her words. "You know, in the two years we had together, you never made me come? Not once. He did, that very first time. He made me come, Edward, he was a man in more ways than you will ever hope to be."

"It wasn't about you getting off -" Her eyes flash at my words, and she actually laughs at me.

"It was at the start. When you were trying to convince me you were so caring and so sensitive, even then I never got off, not once. It's actually always been a surprise to me that the pill never failed for us, but with him, I got pregnant pretty much on the first go. I suppose it makes sense now." Her smile is almost manic, but there's something else. It's grave acceptance. She knows I'll hurt her anyway, so she's going all out. "Eddie's firing blanks."

It's a haze of rage after that, and the red mist stays up for a while. How dare she, how fucking dare she comment on me like that? How she dare talk back to me in the first place is stunning. I should have gone after her when I got home to find the empty her house and her note. She left a fucking note. Just telling me she wasn't coming back. Nothing else. Just that she wasn't coming back. And I let her go. Should have hunted her down, wouldn't have even been that hard. There are people when you have the money to pay them, people without morals or values, people who will do as you ask for a price. I had the money to meet that price even then, and I damn well should have. Brought her back to me, made her realise her pathetic attempt would never amount to anything. When the red mist leaves, and I'm aware of conscious though again, she isn't moving any more. I think she's mostly past talking too. She's conscious, her eyes are open, and they aren't clouded with that fear. All I see now is hate. I cross to the wall, take a video camera from a cupboard. I walk back to her, sit in the chair I abandoned an unknown amount of time ago, flip it open and press record.

"Tell Emmett and your precious son how much it hurts, Bella," I order, calmly.

"Fuck you," she says, steadily. There is no shake to her voice. Blood is trickling steadily from a gash on her lip, the cut above her eyebrow has opened and lengthened, and she's almost entirely soaked in it. I felt ribs go somewhere. God, that was satisfying. Feeling her ribs give out under a kick, hearing the cracks, hearing her scream. She screamed. I remember now, she screamed. I pan the camera over her body, letting them see that she's covered with blood, her blood, that I made that happen. I expose her bruises to the light, nudging her largely unresisting body over to make her lie on her back. Her wrist is clearly broken, and I focus on that. She hisses with pain as I move her.

"You think defiance will save you?"

"Fuck you."

"Looks like you haven't quite learned yet, Bella. But I think I've got enough. We'll email your precious Emmett and your son this clip. We'll see what they think."

"You don't know how to contact him," she says, a spark of fear lighting her face for a brief moment.

"I can find out. I have people willing to do that. Say goodbye to Emmett, Bella." She remains silent, but stares past the camera, meeting my eyes. Her smile is unexpected.

"I can't wait until Emmett catches you. I want to watch when he kills you, I want to watch the light leave your eyes when my Emmett rips you into a thousand tiny pieces." I stop recording halfway through, but it leaves the wish for my death intact. She doesn't stop speaking, her voice a steady, hate-filled thrum in my ears. "I wonder if they'll ever find all the bits of you, when he's finished. I doubt it. And you know what? I wonder if anyone would even mourn your death." It's then that I figure out the ultimate revenge.

She struggles like a wildcat when she works out my intentions, after I've dragged her over to the wall, bound her hands to a pipe with the shirt I tear away from her. She kicks and spits and bucks wildly, vicious little noises ripping from her. I pick up the camera again, set it, place it on the floor a safe distance away, making sure she'll be in the frame, but they'll never see my face. I take my time looking her over, sitting on her legs so she can't struggle away, although God knows she tries. She's softened out over the last seventeen years. I suppose she has had a child, and her curves are far more pronounced now. Her hips are softer, breasts a little bigger, and there are faint white marks on her smooth tummy. Motherhood leaves it's scars behind, but I don't suppose these scars bother her that much. I can't imagine she's still on the pill. Not after all these years. I'll show her who fires fucking blanks. I drag her jeans off her, taking her panties with them, and then fumble at my fly, feeling her kick and buck under my weight, doing everything she can to get me off her. She's trying not to move her hands, and I'm reminded of her broken wrist. I hope it hurts. I position myself between her legs, and she tenses immediately.

"No," she says, and I'm startled momentarily by her voice. It's pleading. She hasn't begged - she's screamed obscenities, screamed, promised horrible revenge, been defiant, but so far she hasn't pleaded. And she's pleading now. "No, no, no, Edward, _please_ don't do this." I laugh, delighted, and ram into her. God, I'd forgotten how she felt. The moment I'm sheathed inside her, the moment when she does become mine in the most primal way, I'd forgotten how amazing it was when it was her. And this time exceeds the others, because this time she fought me. But the moment I'm in, she stops and she goes limp. She just stops. It's neither surrender nor acceptance, it's a break. She knows she's lost. And it's enough to have me finish quickly, grunting out my pleasure against her unresisting flesh. I leave her there, unmoving and unresponsive, and go upstairs. I forward the clips onto my contact, issue him instructions to send through my offshore account and find the email addresses of Jon and Emmett, instructing him not to open the attachments. Like he will. His pay check means far too much to him. I pour myself a drink and decide to while away response time by watching a film. I wonder how long it'll take.

EPOV

We've gathered in a silent conclave at my house. Almost everyone I know is here, my parents, my brother, Charlie, Alice, Rose, and Jon. Charlie has phoned Bella's mother and told her the whole story. It was an agonising phone call to listen to. The agony on Charlie's face told us that she was crying on the other end of the phone. She had known nothing about Bella's past, and she was going to be on the next flight, but Charlie told her to stay put.

"There's no point her coming here," he says, in response to questioning. "What could she do?" It's good question, one that applies to us all. What can any of us do here, except wait and wait and wait. We don't even know what we're waiting for. The forensic team are still looking for fingerprints. The last check in we had from them was that it was in the lab, meaning it'll take a while. All they've managed to confirm so far is that the blood is definitely Bella's. As if we needed that confirmed. What we need the to say is that they've found fingerprint's and that they are Edward's. He's in the system, thanks to his speeding arrest. They'll find them if they are there to find.

My parents and Charlie are maintaining some awkward conversation. They've cast numerous looks at Jon, who they haven't met yet, until Charlie beckons him into the conversation. They go into the kitchen, presumably to bond a little awkwardly. Consequently, when the email alert on my laptop beeps, Alice, Rose, Jasper and I are the only ones in the room to hear it. I check it to have something to do, note the attachment. At first I think it's a virus, but the subject line makes my heart leap with fear. Bella. That's all it says and there's no body to the message. I click it, and my hands shake. Perhaps something shows on my face, because something makes the others cluster round the laptop.

The quality is poor, the sound rough and grainy, but we all see it for what it is.

"Tell Emmett and your precious son how much it hurts, Bella."

"Fuck you." She's a mess, covered in blood, and the camera pans over her body, revealing every bruise, every cut, the face that a nasty gash on her forehead is visibly oozing blood. I can't move, I can't think, roaring fills my ears. Everything sounds so very far away. I see her broken wrist, then everything focuses on her poor, beat up face. She's defying him, refusing to give in, say what she's told. When he nudges her onto her back, there's an audible hiss, which I think first is the quality and then realise it's her noise of pain. There's some talking, some from him, some from her.

"I think I've got enough. We'll email Emmett and your son this clip. We'll see what they think."

"You don't know how to contact him," and somehow I know she means Jon not me. God knows I'd be easy enough to find.

"I can find out. I have people willing to do that. Say goodbye to Emmett, Bella." She remains silent, but stares past the camera, presumably looking directly at Edward. She's smiling about something.

"I can't wait until Emmett catches you. I want to watch when he kills you, I want -" The recording cuts off, but when I mouse over, I see we're only about halfway through the attachment. In horrified silence, the rest of the clip plays out in front of us. But before he touches her, the most heartbreaking, horrific sounds breaks the background buzz of the clip.

"No. No, no, no, Edward, _please,_ don't do this." I never thought I'd see her break. Suddenly, from the kitchen, there is an audible retching sound. Charlie walks into the room and he is shaking like a leaf. I suppose our faces tell him that we too have seen the video.

"Jon?"

"He saw it. We all saw it. And I am going to kill him with my bare hands." I get up, go into the kitchen, motion my mother away from Jon and she and my father leave us. He's slumped in front of the counter and the sink he apparently threw up into although I can't see any. My mother must have cleaned up. His head is in his hands, and his mobile is on the floor beside him, which explains how he saw his email. I sit down in front of him.

"Emmett. Kill him. I don't care about the law, I don't care about what Mum would say about me saying that. I want you to kill him."

"I -"

"Don't tell me you can't, you and I both know you could and would. I want him dead."

"How much did you see of it?"

"All of it." He raises his head, and looks at me. "I saw her beg." I can't stop myself. All thought of treading easily around the son I don't know is gone, and I yank him into a hug. And I let him sob, his chest heaving. He's just a boy. He's just a boy and he's just watched his mother get raped by her ex-partner. He's just a boy, and he's my boy and she's never been anything but my girl. And we both know he's right.

I could and I would kill Edward.


	20. Chapter 20

BPOV

I carefully make myself go blank. I refuse to think, I refuse to react, I refuse to acknowledge what is happening to me. I blur out the man on top of me, blur out the feel of him, blur out the way my wrist screams in protest with every move he makes. When he grunts out his pleasure, I refuse to hear it. When his weight leaves, I don't move. When he goes away, leaves the basement, I don't move. Where could I go? The one thought I can permit myself to have is that Emmett will see that footage - and my God, but I hope he doesn't send it to Jon - and if Emmett is half the man I know him to be, he will come for me. That he will find me. Please, don't let him have sent it to Jon. I don't want my son to see that. Not my baby. Not my boy, God, don't let him see it. I'd rather Emmett didn't, but as Emmett is a grown man and more to the point, far nearer to my knight in shining armour than I've ever cared to admit, I can't hope he doesn't see it. If he's seen it - and I wonder if he already has - it can only mean he'll come for me. I don't deserve him in the slightest.

It's a long wait, down in the dark and the cold. He left me naked, and he's long since stopped moving around upstairs. Perhaps he went out. Perhaps he simply intends for me to stay down here until I starve to death. Except I know Edward, and leaving me here isn't his style. He'll come back, probably for more. God, let Emmett react the way I need him to. Let him come for me.

JasperPOV

I've never seen my brother so quietly angry. As a tiny, he had a furious temper, hot, close to the surface, and it never took much to send him into a rage, which he learned to control. But this quiet, cold fury is something I can't understand. I can't begin to imagine how much she must mean to him. We all know something happened in the kitchen, that Emmett and Jon - my nephew, how odd to think I have a nephew - reached some unknown and unspoken agreement and arrangement. They're different around each other now, less guarded, and I'm amazed by how alike they are when like unguarded and bonding. They're even built the same, Jon less three inches on my brother but the same muscle tone. I wonder what that was like for Bella, seeing her son turn into a replica of his father. I can't think about the footage, the clip we all saw. Charlie vanished some time ago, to go to the police station and chase fingerprints - and to show them the clip. He took Jon's iPhone and Emmett's laptop, they'll count as evidence now. We all know Emmett is simply waiting to be told an address. I wonder if they'll actually inform us, or just use some judgement and common sense and refuse to tell us, make a quiet bust and tell us only when he's in custody. They would if they were sensible. I know that if Emmett or Charlie is told an address, there will be nothing to stop either of them from going down there. I can't picture Edward living.

It's a difficult amount of hours. Charlie returns frustrated, they're having trouble with the prints, isolating the unknown from Charlie's and Bella's is proving complicated. There's a knock at the front door at midnight, and every single one of us lunges for it, but Charlie gets there first.

"Renee, what -"

"As if I'd stay in goddamn Arizona while my girl is missing. Jon, baby," this unknown woman says. Jon launches himself into her arms and a man who looks familiar hustles them both inside. He and Charlie exchange vaguely awkward handshakes.

"I couldn't stop her, you know what she's like," he says. "I'm Phil." Bella's mother and stepfather. Jon is clinging to his grandmother, who is clearly no fool.

"What's happened."

"We got emails," Emmett offers this information, staring at the woman who, in another life, would be his mother-in-law.

"Emails?"

"A video clip of Bella. Renee - may I call you Renee? - you should sit down. There's something about Bella's past you need to know."

It's the single most difficult thing I've ever had to listen to. For me and my parents, it's the first time we've heard this story too. Listening to Emmett tell it, my mother reaches out for Renee's hand, and the two women exchange looks. Their children have been connected for seventeen years, they've never met, never known about each other, but in this moment, thee fact that both their children are hurting is enough for them to break through that and sit united. It's a horrendous story, and there is deadly, deadly silence while Emmett tells it the best he can, right from everything he knew, from the night he met Bella up to the video clip of not four hours ago. When it's over, Renee does absolutely nothing for a long time. Her hands are folded in her lap, and she isn't looking at anyone, but staring at a photograph of me and Emmett at my graduation. I know what she'll see. She's looking at her grandson's double. Finally, she does something very unexpected. She does not cry or shout or throw things. She stands up, kisses Jon on the head, and then holds out her arm to Emmett.

"Emmett, will you be so kind as to take a walk outside with me for a while?"

"Sure." Charlie and Phil look at each other as they leave.

"She's fine now," Charlie says, and Phil nods.

"I'm not so sure I am."

"I'll make coffee," Dad says, jumping up, clearly relieved to be able to do something. "My son hasn't anything stronger. He doesn't drink."

"Fair enough."

"Who else for coffee?" There's a general mumble of want from everyone, and I wonder what is happening outside.

EmPOV

I'm struck by how young Renee looks. She hasn't said much, but the grip she has on my arm tells me how hard she's trying to hold it all together. She lets go at the end of my garden, and swings to face me.

"You're Jon's father."

"Yes."

"I often wondered. Wondered if you ever showed up, would I know who you were. But I never expected Jon to look so much like you. It's almost uncanny." She looks at me. "You didn't come for her."

"I can't apologise enough. I convinced myself she wouldn't want to see me. She was pretty damn clear about not wanting me to come after her, and she had her reasons. I don't know why I listened. But I did. And I can't explain that now."

"I'm not blaming you. I know my daughter. I don't think she would have let you in if you did show up. I just - I wish she could have told me."

"I can't explain her decision not to. I think she didn't want to burden you."

"Probably. Silly, proud, wonderful girl." Renee's eyes are glittering with tears under the security light. "I don't know all the details about this video. Tell me. Tell me what it was."

"I -"

"Emmett, please do not try and spare me in some bid to protect me. That's my baby girl he's got. I want to know how bad it is, how bad it'll be when we find her."

"I don't know how I can describe it to you. I really don't."

"Just tell me the content."

"Well." I rub the back of my neck. "He did this camera pan over her, she was pretty badly hurt. Cut on her forehead, split lip - most of her face was fine, but there was a hell of a lot blood, Renee. She's hurt, hurt bad. He spoke to her, mocking her - she didn't act scared, I have to say, she really gave it to him." Renee's lips quiver - I suppose if the situation was less horrible, she'd smile.

"What did she say?"

"He told her to tell me how much it hurt, and she said 'Fuck you.' And then he said some more stuff, and she said she couldn't wait for me to catch him. She also said she wanted to watch while I kill him."

"That's my Bella. And what else was on the clip?"

"You're sharp. Like mother like daughter, by the looks of it."

"Yes, so tell me."

"He raped her, Renee. And she begged, and then she stopped fighting. And then it cut off."

"Oh, Jesus. Jesus." She goes white, and sways. I grab her arms, and she trembles.

"We're gonna find her, Renee. I swear we're going to find her."

"I need something very strong and alcoholic."

"There's no alcohol in the house. I don't drink."

"Coffee then."

"Coffee I have."

I take her back in, and she crosses to Charlie. They exchange a look, and I think in that look, they say more than they could express in words. Phil hands Renee a cup of coffee, and Dad hands me one. He's made it strong and bitter, but it's exactly what I need right now. Jasper is clearly dying for a smoke, but seems reluctant to leave. I gesture to him. He can just smoke in here. The smell will come out of my furniture, I really don't care right now. He crosses to the window, opens it, and at least has the decency to try and blow his smoke outside. Alice joins him, bums a fag.

"You quit smoking five years ago," Rose protests.

"Now seems like a good time to start again." None of us can really dispute that. We've all got crutches. I need coffee to live half the time, Jasper smokes so he doesn't throw the books at his students, my parents collect antiques. I know Alice and Rose like a bottle of wine on a Friday night. If Alice wants to smoke, fine. I suppose it's at least something to do. My hands do feel a bit redundant.

The hours pass, but at eight o clock the next morning, when we're all exhausted, the phone finally rings.

"Hello?"

"Emmett? It's Amy, from the lab. We've got a positive. Edward Masen was in that house. His prints are on the front door and the wall above the bloodstain. If you and Charlie can absolutely guarantee that Bella would never have let him in without him forcing his way past her, then we can run on this."

"We can absolutely guarantee that Bella wouldn't have let him. Run on it, Amy."

"Will do. You understand, don't you? You can't be on this case, nor can Charlie, you're both too connected."

"I know. Just for God's sake, keep us updated."

"Within the bounds of my job description, I will keep you updated." I know what she means. She won't tell us anything we can use to launch some private vendetta. I also know she'll keep us out the loop to save both our careers.

"Alright, Amy. Alright." She hangs up, and I face the others. "They found Edward's prints. It's enough to legally start looking. They'll keep us updated," and here I look over at Charlie, "within the bounds of the job description."

"What does that mean?" Renee asks, exhaustion lining her face.

"It means the next time we hear from them, it'll be when they've got him and found her," Charlie says. "They will not be telling us anything else. If they tell us where he is, this won't get to court, because we'd go barging in there."

Over the course of the day, we all nap sporadically, but Jon falls asleep around nine and doesn't wake for some time. Renee manages to tuck him under a blanket without disturbing him. I can't sleep at all, and spend hours wandering around the house, until both Jasper and Alice yell at me to sit down somewhere. I spend the next few hours staring out of the window, letting the activity flow around me. He's hurting my Bella.

EdPOV

The morning dawns with no reply to the messages. I better check on her, I suppose. Not going to work if she isn't fairly OK. I hope she's got some of her fire back. I don't want to be bored. She's here to be at least some entertainment. I pour a glass of whiskey and one of water, and go back down to the basement. She's either asleep or unconscious, but she's breathing evenly. I need to get a grasp on my temper. I want her to suffer, but I don't want her dead. If I flip again like last night, I could do damage that will kill her if she doesn't get medical attention. No, she's useless dead. I stand over her for a minute, take a mouthful of whiskey. Only then do I throw the glass of water over her. It rouses her most effectively and she gasps, lashes, apparently forgetting she's got a broken wrist and is currently died to a pipe. The movement makes her draw in a half broken sob of pain, but no tears come. Still fighting, I see. I untie her, and she launches up, bringing her injured wrist into a cradle against her chest, hissing out her pain.

"You know, I never got a response from either of your precious men. Maybe they really don't care. I have to admit, I'm a little surprised. I was looking forward to that." She doesn't respond to me, just looks into the distance, slightly unfocused. Maybe there's a concussion in there. I yank her head up, looking into her eyes. No, no concussion. She's just ignoring me again. "Hmm. I'm trying to decide if you're sufficiently broken yet, or whether you're just being stubborn." She spits in my face.

"Answer your question?"

"I can think of a better use for your mouth that that." I fumble with my fly, and she growls.

"You put that _thing_ anywhere near me, and I swear to God, I'll bite it so badly you'll never use it again."

"Try it, whore, and I swear to God I'll slice you up bit by bit and send a piece a day to your precious son. We'll see how he reacts to getting little bits of Mummy in the post." She glares at me, her lips pulling back in a snarl.

"You leave him out of this."

"Then do as you're told." I grip her hair in one hand, hold her nose with the other. She'll have to open her pretty little mouth or suffocate. I plunge forward the moment she does, remind her of the consequences, and start fucking her mouth. She makes no effort to do anything, just holds her mouth slack, not even looking at me. "Oh no, Bella. Put some effort into it, or the consequences stand. Her glare comes again, but she bobs obediently. My breath hisses out. God, I forgot how very talented this little mouth really was. By far the best I've ever had. It would have to be her, of course. "Swallow," I order her, locking my hands in her hair, refusing to release her until I feel her throat constrict. I push her away, take the seat again, drink deep. She pulls her knees up to her chin , hides her body from me, fixes her eyes on the floor. I wonder what she's thinking about. I wonder what they're thinking about, back in Forks. I wonder what they're doing. I wonder if they'll even bother to come find her. After all, who'd want some used up whore?


	21. Chapter 21

EmPOV

There is a knock at the door in the late afternoon. I answer it, as I'm the only one who seems capable of movement right now. Edward Masen Senior is standing on my doorstep, looking supremely uncomfortable and distressed. I make no move towards letting him in, instead stare at him.

"May I come in?" he asks, after a fairly tense few minutes has passed.

"Why."

"There's something you all need to hear." I let him in, but he doesn't get a warm reception. He looks too much like his son. Charlie is visibly bristling, but I raise my hand against the muttering.

"He says he has something to say. We hear him out." The silence is something he apparently takes as permission to speak.

"The police have been to my home, asking if I know the whereabouts of my son. I have seen the video clip he apparently sent to you. I am here to say I am co-operating fully with their investigation, and have provided them with a list of our properties in the area to which he may have taken Isabella. I wish to apologise, in front of you all, for my son. I've begun legal proceedings to remove the company from his hands. If I can offer anything at all in defence, it is ignorance. I never knew what he was doing." The silent tension in the room could be cut with a knife. "I don't ask for forgiveness, either for myself or him. All I can do is tell you that he disgusts me to the core - but he is still my son. It is probably only a matter of time before this reaches the press. I will not be taking his side, but nor will I issue any statement against him. I will stand up in court and say he is a dangerous man who should be imprisoned, but I will not slander him." The pain is etched on his face. I feel pity for him, somewhere deep down. None of us considered how hard it'd be for this man to face his son's conduct. "If it's worth anything, I'm none too sure my son is quite sane. While a great many of you will be calling for him to receive the death penalty, I only ask that you consider his mental condition. I'm sorry." When none of us speak, he raises his hands helplessly. "I'm not sure what else there is I can say."

"I don't really think there is anything you can say." Jon speaks, his voice quiet and rough. "He's an adult - his choices and actions are not yours. But I'm not sure I want him to die for this. I think I'd rather know he'd live out his life in jail - and I'm sorry if that's hard for you to hear. But I will speak against him if asked. He's got my mother. He's got my mother and - and he's torturing her. I can't bring myself to make allowances for that. I can't not comment on that." Masen Senior nods abruptly.

"I understand. I do. But I have said what I came to say, and I won't outstay the welcome I never got. But if you hear anything - I'd like to be kept updated."

"I'll do that," Jon says. "Leave your number." Masen leaves his card and then I walk him to the door. He swings round as I open it.

"Emmett, if it's worth anything now, I'm glad that she found you, both then and now. I care very deeply about Isabella and I always did. She's lovely and she deserves happiness. And I assure you, if I knew anything at all about what my son was doing to her, I would have stopped it without question."

"I know." I offer him my hand, and we have a brief, awkward handshake. I can hear Renee and my mother talking softly from the kitchen. Apparently they're cooking dinner for us all, something which I can't deny will be welcome. It's a simple enough meal, just casserole, but it fills the spot and means we're braced for another night of waiting. But it's getting harder to stay awake. Finally, we agree that it'll be the best thing to get some sleep. Nobody really wants to go home to do so, so I round up all the blankets I possibly can, and Alice goes back to her place to bring sofa cushions and other blankets. Finally, everyone has a bed of some sort, and we settle down for the night. I take the sofa, sleeping next to the phone. I want to be able to snatch it up right away if anyone calls. After promising everyone faithfully that I'll wake them up if anything happens, we're asleep fairly quickly. It's only when I lie down that I realise how tired I really am. But my last thought is of her, and she fills my dreams that night.

The telephone rings at ten the next morning, waking us all up. I fumble for it.

"Amy?" The dark chuckle makes my blood run cold.

"You know, Cullen, I'm disappointed. I thought you'd have found her by now. But she's got something to say to you. Go on, you slut. Say it."

"Don't rise, Emmett. Don't rise." There's a sickening sound of a connecting punch.

"Wrong, bitch! Say it right."

"Emmett. I'm sorry. I - I -"

"Say it, bitch!"

"I'm a disgusting whore who doesn't deserve you. And - and Edward made me suck his cock and I - I -" her voice tails off, and I hear her swallow. "Edward made me suck his cock and I enjoyed it because that's what I'm so good at, being his little slut." Her voice is dull and defeated.

"There you go, Emmett. She admits it. Believe me, it took a lot to make her. I assume you got our little video?"

"Listen to me, you goddamn bastard. I swear to god, I am going to fucking kill you."

"Emmett?" Alice asks me. "Who is that?"

"Say goodbye to your Emmett, Bella."

"Goodbye, Emmett." She repeats his words without any emotion, entirely flat.

"I wonder if you'll get here in time. She's pretty hurt." I can't say anything else, because he hangs up at his end. By this time, everyone is back in the living room.

"He's taunting us. He knows they can't find him, so he's taunting us with her."

"Did you speak to her?" Charlie asks, panic in his eyes.

"Yes, I spoke to her. And I'll shoot myself in the head before I repeat what he made her say." Nobody persists or questions me, so I assume they take me seriously. I'll never tell Jon what Edward made his mother say to me. I'll never tell any of them, it was humiliating enough for her. The phone rings again before our conversation can be carried on and I wrestle it from Jon - if that's Edward again, he's not hearing his poison.

"Hello?" I snap, glaring at the son who's just gestured to me very rudely. "Jon, if you do that again I will tape your fingers together."

"What?"

"Oh, Amy. Sorry. My son just gave me the finger." He shoots me a filthy look.

"Oh, well, sorry to interrupt your domestic. You might be interested to know we think we know where Edward Masen is. If he's there or not, I'll have news within fifteen minutes."

"Right, thanks. Call us right away."

"I will." I click off, and give the news. There's a different atmosphere now, slightly more relaxed. They think it's going to be so simple. Jon is still glaring at me, and my mother does the most unsubtle thing ever, herding everyone into the kitchen while talking about washing up at the top of her voice.

"Why couldn't I take the damn call?"

"Because I thought it was Edward, and I didn't want you talking to him. And I meant what I said, if you make that gesture again, I'll tape up your hands for the day."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Jon, don't be so bloody rude. Look, I didn't want you talking to him because he made your mother say things. And I didn't want you hearing those things, and I'm not going to let you, so deal with not being able to answer the phone until they catch him."

"Goddamn! Why you gotta be so fucking good at being a father to me?" I blink at that. "I want to call you Dad!" he blurts out, glaring.

"If you want to do that, then fine. But watch your language."

"Fine." He sits back, lounges on the chair. "You aren't going to tell me what he made her say, are you?"

"No, I'm not, because if she found out, she's strangle me. And because you do not want to know, believe me you don't."

"Alright. Fine."

"Stop sulking." The phone rings again, and he hands it to me as everyone rejoins us.

"We've got him. Bella is being taken to Northwest. She's in a bad way, Emmett. You're going to want to get here pretty fast."

"They've got him, he's in custody."

"And Bella?" Charlie demands.

"Northwest. She's in a bad way apparently."

After that it's a frantic blur. Jon and Charlie come in my car, and I break every speed limit from here to Seattle in a bid to get there in an impossible time. Amy is waiting when we get there, all of us, and she quirks an eyebrow up.

"Next of kin only," the nurse says, firmly, surveying us. I shove Charlie, Renee and Jon towards the lift.

"That's you three."

"It's you too, Dad," Jon says, determinedly digging his heels in. if any of the others find that odd, they don't question it. Nstead, they arrange themselves around the reception, obviously biding their time. I get in the lift with them, and nothing is said on the ride that seems to take even longer than the car journey. A Sister is waiting upstairs, and she clicks towards us efficiently.

"Bella Swan family?"

"Yes," we chorus.

"Two at a time. I don't want her overwhelmed. Please make it quick - Doctor wants her in surgery, and she's refusing to allow it until she's seen you."

"You two go first," Charlie says. "That's only right. Besides - we all know she'll want to see Jon most." I'd offer to let Jon go in alone, but he shrinks against me outside the room, and makes me go first. What I see makes my heart plummet.

She's pale as the pillows she's lying on, her face swollen and bruised. Her lip is a sunburst of colour, and blood seeps through a neat square of gauze on her forehead. Her wrist is so obviously broken it looks deformed, and there is a plethora of bruises peeking from her hospital gown. She's facing away from us, staring hopelessly out of the window.

"Mamma!" Jon cries the word, lurches forward, even as she turns her head. I could be buck naked with a tea cosy for a hat right now, and it wouldn't matter. Her eyes are only for her son. Before she can say anything, Jon has taken her in his arms and is cradling her close to him. He's stroking her hair, crying keeping up a chant of "Mamma, mamma, mamma," over and over again. Bella uses her good arm to gently extract herself.

"Baby, look at me. Look at me, darling. I'm not OK, but I'm going to be really soon. I'm going to go for surgery, they're going to fix me up, and I'll be better before you even know it, OK?" Jon nods, choking back a sob.

"OK."

"Go on now. Please? I need to talk to Emmett." When he's out the room, she does what I think she must have been holding back for a long, long time. She curls into herself and she breaks. I see it happen. I see the pain in her face, the agony ripping broken, harsh sobs from her. The eyes she raises to me are burning with pain and humiliation, and I don't hesitate. I go to her, holding my arms open, and I scoop her up, blankets and all, keeping her broken wrist carefully out of the way. I hold her in my arms like I'd hold a hurt child, and I cradle her, rocking her gently in my arms, and I tell her it will be alright. I hold her tight and I tell her I will never again let her go, that I will never again allow anyone to ever hurt her. I tell her I love her, tell her she's perfect and wonderful and that I will never stop loving her. She winds her good arm around my neck and she cries and cries, cries with a terrible, gut-wrenching hurt that I know I can't cure. I hold her until I feel all the tension leave her, and I kiss her eyes, kiss her tears away, tell her I love her again. She clings to me hopelessly, and doesn't stop me from calling the nurse. I don't let go of her hand until she's sedated and in theatre, a place I can't follow her to.

And all I want is for the man who did this to my Bella to burn in hell.


	22. Chapter 22

EPOV

She's in the coma after her surgery for a long time. I sit by her bedside, we all do, taking endless shifts so she won't be alone if she wakes up. Her doctors are worried, she seems to have taken the medication and sunk down so far underneath it that even now those meds have worn off, she's still not even trying to regain consciousness. If anything, she's trying not to. But even if they are worried, they refuse to give some shot of adrenaline or something to bring her up. Even when Jon begged me, Charlie, the doctors to do something, anything, we had to tell him that if she was fighting it, it was because her body and mind needed to fight it. It was best for her to stay asleep for now. After pleas, the Sister and her consultant agreed to let us stay overnight, but not on the ward and certainly not in Bella's little room. We could wait outside the ward. They'd come and get whoever was there if she woke up. They never said when. They said if, and I knew that they were starting to let worry overcome the natural healing crap they kept twittering on about.

Jon agitates at me and Charlie to get going early the next morning. I've started just staying at their place most of the time. Charlie keeps mumbling about moving in permanently, that there's no point having a house you don't live in. I don't get the impression that there's any objections from Jon's camp, even though he's a little awkward with me. Sometimes - mostly when he's afraid about Bella - he lets an unguarded "Dad" slip out, but mostly he just avoids calling me anything, even Emmett. I think he's probably scared that having not been there for such a long time, he's scared that I'll make a bolt for it, in some kind of post-dated fit of the jitters or something.

When we get to the hospital that morning, Alice is outside, her hands shaking so much she can't light the cigarette she's holding. Jasper snatches it off her eventually, lights it, and hands it back.

"What's happened?" I ask them, frowning.

"Jon, go inside," Charlie says.

"Rose is up there," Alice says, forcing a smile onto her face. "Go on with you," she adds, seeing the refusal flash on his face. "I just had way too much coffee. Got the caffeine jitters." He nods, reassured by her smile and passable excuse. He goes inside, and we watch him into the lift.

"So, what happened?" I demand.

"Bella's had a cardiac arrest. About ten minutes ago. We tried calling, but there was nobody home, we figured you'd already left. They brought her back, but now they're worried. Worried enough - they were to be waking her up this afternoon."

"Her heart stopped?" Charlie croaks. "How, why?"

"Under too much strain. Delayed shock they called it, or something anyway," Jasper says. Alice is smoking her cigarette in great sucking drags, as if she can forget Bella dying, even for only a short time. She's going to either need another one soon, or quit for the second time. Personally, I favour the second option, but I've had no success trying to bother my brother into quitting, and I can't even be bothered to try now.

"Do they think it'll happen again?"

"They aren't sure. But they can't try waking her now. It'd be too much of a shock. Now they have to wait for Bella to either fight or quit altogether." Alice is pale but says what we're all thinking with almost an air of a relief. I know how she feels, it's out there now and it's not hanging like some oppressive cloud all over us. Now it's been spoken - the possibility that Edward might have actually killed our girl.

A police officer comes to the hospital later that day. Jon doesn't know about his mother's heart failure, and nobody plans to tell him. I don't want him knowing just yet. Only if it become inevitable will he be told and right now there is still hope. Charlie disagrees - he thinks that if there's a chance Bella won't make it, Jon should be prepared. The police officer comes to talk to Charlie and I, who are both having compassionate leave at the moment. I'm seriously considering chucking the whole damn force in. getting some other job. Any other job.

"Edward has been denied bail. It's generally felt that if he's released prior to his court date, he could become the target of - revenge attacks."

"My goodness, really?" I say, sarcastically. "I can't think of anyone who'd like to murder him."

"Emmett, I'm just going to pretend I didn't hear that. But his court date is on the 7th. And I've just spoken to Bella's doctor and I understand the situation has worsened since she had surgery. He denies attempted murder, but is admitting to GBH. If she dies, it'll be murder, whether he denies it or not."

"Will they make a deal?" Charlie asks.

"His lawyer is pushing for it, and he's top brass, Charlie. But he will do time and he will be ruined. Our problem is that we might have bigger things to fight. Edward has been assessed by a psychiatrist. There may be a case for unfit to plead."

"Which means?"

"It means he won't even make it to court. They'll do an fitness to plead hearing, and if his lawyer manages to convince them that he is unfit, then he'll be sectioned under the law and go into a psychiatric unit. I don't know if that's the angle they're taking, I think they're aiming for a plea deal."

"Tell me what sort."

"He pleads guilty to GBH and serves time for that."

"Not attempted murder."

"No."

"Fucker."

"It's still at least ten years."

"And if my baby girl dies? Do he and that jumped-up lawyer his daddy hired have a plan for that?"

"He'll plead manslaughter. It's twenty to twenty-five years."

"Manslaughter? They won't make him for murder?"

"They will try for a plea bargain. I can't guarantee they'll go for that, there's a chance they'll ignore the plea bargain and go for murder. But some very powerful people know his father and as yet we don't know what Mr Masen will encourage. We aren't even sure if he'll support his son in any way."

"Is that what you came for?"

"Yes. I thought you should know the way things were going."

"Thanks, Jim," Charlie says, getting up. "Thanks for uh - taking the time to stop by."

"No problem, Chief. And uh - if you could keep us updated, about Bella, we'd all much appreciate it."

"We will. Someone will come by and let you know."

"Thanks, Chief." He goes away, and I go to find Jon while Charlie goes to find food for us. Alice and Rose are home now, presumably to shower and maybe catch some sleep. Even if I know that it's a bit extreme to hope for that much. Jasper gets up the minute I come in, looking dreadful.

"Go home, I say, shoving at him. "Home, shower, shave, sleep. I'll call. If anything changes, I'll call you."

"Call Mum and Dad too," he says, yawning dreadfully. "They said they'd come by when you called."

"OK. Go, Jasper, before you fall on this floor and sleep." He nods and slides off, yawning as he goes. Probably a good thing it's the summer holidays now. He'd be falling asleep in the middle of a class otherwise. Of course, the whole town does know what happened. I'm sure they'd forgive him.

The next four days are equally horrible. They've blurred into one long, frozen expanse of over-tired monotony, too much coffee and too much fear. Edward's court date and his psychiatric assessment are approaching rapidly, and with no Bella to give a statement - although it's entirely obvious what he did to her - we're all aware that the whole thing is on shaky ground. But on the fifth day after we came so horribly close to losing her, Alice flies into the café, and looks around wildly.

"Where's Jon?" she demands of me, Rose crossing swiftly over to us. Alice takes her hand, shaking violently, but continues staring at me while I swallow scalding coffee too quickly and choke.

"With Charlie, back at the house."

"They say we're at the crisis point. Call them, they need to be here."

"Crisis point?" Jasper asks.

"They're going to wake her. So this goes one of two ways. She wakes up and all well and good - or the shock is too much, and we all know what that would mean." I'm dialling before she's finished, while Jasper questions her.

"When?"

"After lunch. We can't be there, obviously. But we can be on the ward. If we promise not to get in the way."

"Charlie? Good. You need to bring Jon back here. They're going to try and wake her up. Yes, now. I know, I know it's a long drive. But it's happening anyway. I'll keep you updated." I hang up the phone, and the four of us stare at each other over the table. All I can think is that now, here, this is how I lose her forever.


End file.
